The Mockingbird and the Direwolf
by kristen5286
Summary: "Things always changed. Plans changed. Who ruled changed. Alliances changed. But the endgame never had before. Not once. But now that vision was blurred around the edges, slowly going out of focus." This is a Petyr/Sansa match up. This starts with them talking under the Godswood in episode 10 of season 6. *contains SMUT. You've been warned.
1. Prelude

**Disclaimer: I am not George R R Martin, and nor do I own any of his characters.**

 **A/N: I haven't read the books so this will be solely based off the TV series. I've never written a GoT fanfic before because the show is so elaborate and I don't feel I know any one character or their back story well enough to do it justice. This is sort of a prelude to what I want to write, what I wished had happened in episode 10. I've also never written anything with an accent or in a dialect from another Era. So, please bear with me and cut me some slack when this American butchers up the dialogue. Let me know if y'all like this and if I should continue it seriously or not.**

As Sansa listened to Petyr describe what he truly wanted, to be on the Iron Throne with her by his side, she couldn't help but notice the air of truth on his voice. The years since first leaving Winterfell had taught her many things. Picking out a lie off Petyr Baelish's tongue was one of them. She could hear nothing but unadulterated truth. Though she couldn't deny that she had once wanted to be Queen in Kings Landing, she could no longer say that was still her hearts desire. As he neared the end of his speech he stepped towards her, making his next move quite obvious.

Since marrying her off to Ramsay she no longer trusted him and his motives where she was concerned. However, as he leaned in to kiss her she found her self wondering how she'd feel the moment his lips touched hers. Would it be the same as it was in the Eyrie? Exciting, nerve wracking, and full of promise? Or would she find it lacking, no longer satisfying. She pushed her initial reaction to stop him in his tracks aside and let him kiss her.

It started off timid, him being unsure of her reaction. Slowly, she found herself succumbing to him, to his lips. She leaned her head towards his a fraction and he took that invitation and ran with it. His hands skimmed up her arms towards her face and settled one hand on each side of her head, cradling her jaw. Without her knowledge her hands reached up and rested on his chest. She sighed as one of his hands left her face, traveled to the small of her back, and pulled her in tight to his body. Slowly, he backed her up until her back was against the Godswood, using its hard surface to help bring her body even closer to his.

She found herself kissing him with a fervor she had never before experienced. Never with Ramsay were their kisses ever passionate or pleasurable, and any before him were chaste, and lacking of urgency or desire. In a sense you could say this was her first real kiss. She found it intoxicating.

After a time, Petyr slowly ended the kiss. Pulling away, the both of them breathing heavily, and resting his forehead against hers. Sansa trembled as she let out an uneasy breath. That hadn't gone exactly how she had wanted it to. She'd been curious, yes, and she had wanted to see how it felt, but she hadn't expected it to get carried away as it had. She slowly grew uneasy, unsure of what her next step would be.

As their breathing calmed Petyr looked into her eyes, his head mere inches from hers. She could still feel his breath on her lips as he said her name "Sansa". Searching her eyes desperately, he sought out any clues as to her state of mind. He found nervousness, desire, and confusion there in her stare. He removed his hand from her face and traced a line with his thumb across her cheek, and down over her bottom lip, lingering there for a moment. His eyes followed his thumb and she saw the awe in his eyes. He looked up into her eyes once more then took a step back, giving her space to straighten herself from her position against the great tree.

Not wanting to press his luck, he said to her "I shall take my leave now, but I'll be finding you again. Soon." All she could do was stand there, watching him go, confused and bewildered by her body's reaction to his touch, his kiss. She thought she knew exactly where he stood with her, exactly what she wanted from him. But that was simply not the case. Everything she thought she knew about her feelings towards Petyr Baelish was a lie.


	2. Chapter 1

A/N: I am toying around with different POVs. I won't specifically lable each section, I'm sure y'all will be able to figure it out. There will be some sections where you are able to get inside both their heads. I don't like not always being able to know what everyone is thinking in a dialouge so I decided to be more open with this story as compared to my others. Obviously a lot of their thinking (Especially Petyr's) will be around what was said between them in the last episode, but I'm changing when/how it's delivered. Some things are close to direct quotes, but I kinda need them said before we can continue to beyond where the show ended. As always, let me know what y'all think. I'm still quite self conscious about this story.

Chapter 1

As Petyr walked away he couldn't help the smirk that formed on his lips. His talk with Sansa hadn't gone how he had expected it to. It had actually gone considerably better. Better than he could have ever hoped. Briskly he made his way back to his chambers so he could be alone with his thoughts and plan out his next move. Lord Baelish was known to be a quick thinker, but having the girl, nay woman, he had grown to care for in ways he hadn't for another since his youth left his wits scattered and mind clouded. Opting to sit in the chair at the window overlooking the main grounds down below over his seat behind the desk, he sank back and let out an elated breath.

As he relived the previous moments a smile grew on his face. He could still picture the look on her face as he told her of his ultimate plans. How he wanted his Games to play out. Never had he been so utterly honest with anyone before. But with her he had. He laid it all out for her to see. Painted a pretty picture of her and him ruling side by side with him on the Iron Throne. He took a risk in kissing her. But what fun is the Game without a few risks being taken? He can say with all honesty that never had he expected her to accept his kiss, and especially not for her to meet it with her own want. Maybe later on, once the scars left by himself and Ramsay had healed more. But certainly not so soon. But what is the point in dweling on that which did not occur? He could find none.

Instead, he chose to remember the taste of her which still lingered on his lips. The feel of her in his hands. He had never held her as such before. Never had he been so forceful in his affections towards her. Sure they had shared a few kisses before, but nothing of the magnitutde which they shared underneath the Godswood.

After a few last moments of reminiscing he needed to get back to the matters at hand. He had been sidetracked and fled before he had taken things too far with Lady Stark under that tree. He had meant to tell her that he had declared himself to House Stark. He knew that once the news of the battle had spread to all the 7 Kingdoms he'd need to align himself with the victors, and by default, Sansa. He had also wanted to be the little bird that whispered in her ear, opening her eyes to her true place in Winterfell. He may love the fierce Direwolf, but he was still playing to win.

As he decided on the new route on which he was to take, given the change in circumstances, he felt himself grow more confident. Maybe getting everything he had ever wanted, everything he had been working towards since Brandon Stark bested him in their duel, wasn't going to take quite as long as he had originally imagined. But Petyr Baelish was no fool. Things may be looking up for him at this moment, but he knew all too well how quickly the winds can change, and alliances broken.

She watched as Petyr retreated back inside the walls of Winterfell. Trying to compose herself and form a coherent thought she brushed off her dress and started towards the gates. She blushed crimson as she neared her home and saw gaurds standing at attention. Had they witnessed their display? Surely they hadn't. The Godswood wasn't visible from their position, just barely out of sight. If they had seen anything, they were respectful enough not to let on. She quickly made her way to her parent's former chambers. Jon had suggested she take them as her own and had seen to having her things moved in there.

As she closed the door behind her she walked to be bed and fell onto it as she had when she was a spoiled girl throwing a tantrum for not getting her way. Embarassed by her behavior with Petyr, both for letting it happen and for how it made her feel, she chastised herself for being so irresponsible. Jon and his army, including the Knights Petyr had brought from the Vale, had only just won back her home and here she was dallying around with her sometimes enemy under a scared tree. She was sure her mother was rolling in her grave at the indiscretion. Nevertheless, she had been careless and could not afford to continue to behave in that way.

She got up off the bed and went to study her reflection in the mirror. She could still see the flush on her cheeks, could still feel his strong hands holding her close to him. She ran her fingers lightly over her cheek and across her bottom lip, following the path he had taken with his thumb. Sansa found herself longing to be back in his embrace. Wanting to feel his body pressed against hers as it had been. She'd desired men before when she'd been an innocent maiden and had not known of how it truly felt to be held and kissed and touched. When her maidenhood had been stripped from her on her wedding night to her second husband she hadn't felt anything close to desire. No kindness, no care, no regard to her feelings or wants. Ramsay had been rough and unforgiving. Not only had he made the experience, and every one after, a nightmare, but to top it all off he'd humiliated her by forcing Theon to watch the procedings. She shuddered at the memory, then reminded herself that that was in the past. She recalled how satisfying it had felt to watch the bastard's own beloved hounds rip him to shreds.

That was to be her new comfort whenever a bad memory came rushing back to her. Remember how helpless he had been. How broken he was after Jon had tenderized his face with his fists. She smiled a small, devious grin at the thought.

She was brought out of her reverie by a knock at the door. "Come in." she called, still staring at her reflection.

"My lady, Lord Baelish has requested your presence in the library." her handmaiden informed her.

"Thank you, Ingrid." Sansa replied.

One deep breath and a last look at herself, she straightened her skirts and headed towards the library. Petyr had said that he'd be calling on her again soon, she just did not believe it to be quite so quickly after the incident in the woods. She was not too surprised though, she knew he would have an agenda, no matter what transpired between them, and he would want to get her on board with his cause. Sansa internally rolled her eyes at the notion. Ever the busy body was Lord Baelish.

As she stepped into the library she saw him standing with his back to the door, facing the roaring fire. She closed the door behind her and made her way towards Petyr.

"Lord Baelish, you wished to see me. Again." she said to his still turned back.

"Aye, I did." he said as he turned around. He made a considerable effort to keep his eyes on her face when all they wanted to do was roam down her tall, slim form and remember. "There were some things I had wished to discuss with you before we were ... distracted." He let his trademark smirk make an appearence at this time and quite enjoyed the flush it brought to her features.

"Yes, Lord Baelish,"

"Call me Petyr, my love. For we are quite familiar with each other at this point." He interuppted to correct her like he did every time she was so formal with him.

"Yes, I suppose we are, Petyr. What did you want?"

"Word of the battle will be spreading quickly to the 7 Kingdoms. I wanted you to know that I have declared myself for House Stark." He had already expected her reaction to this and she did not disappoint.

"You have declared yourself for other Houses before, Petyr, but that has never stopped you from going back on your word as it suits your needs." she replied, putting emphasis on his given name.

"The past is gone now, my love. I see no need in holding on to it and letting it dictate our future. You, dear Sansa, are the future of House Stark. The one true heir to Winterfell." He let his voice grow ever slightly to emphasize the importance of what he was trying to convey to her. "Jon Snow is a motherless bastard, born in the south. Who should the Northerners rally behind?" he asked, raising an eyebrow to his little pawn.

Sansa found herself at a disadvantage. She had suspected he would declare himself for House Stark seeing as he had come to their rescue during the battle. But what she hadn't expected was for him to encourage her to take control of the north over her half brother. She was at a loss.

"Jon is my brother. He knows more of ruling over an army than I do. The battles have just begun..." She trailed off. She knew there was more to being Queen of the North than ruling over armies but it was the best argument she could come up with after being caught off guard.

Littlefinger had suspected she would be unaware of all his plans. But that is the point, isn't it? To always keep everyone guessing. Even if he had trusted her enough to tell her more than most, he still had to keep some things close to the breast. "Aye, he may be a great Lord Commander, but he is no Stark. Not in the way you are dear Sansa. He wasn't raised in the same way you were. He wasn't brought up preparing for the Throne as you have been. It is in your blood to rule, not to stand idly by as someone less fitting takes your place. The people in the North respected your father and your mother. You are their true born daughter born right here in Winterfell. Ruling over them, and in a time, everyone else, is what you were born to do, my love." Petyr said fervently. He could see the wheels turning inside her pretty little head. He knew that the seeds he was planting were taking root. But he also knew it'd take quite a bit more time and work to get her on board than just a few brazen words spoken by the firelight.

"Lord Baelish I..." she began.

He let her formal slip of the tongue go and cut her off stating "Don't say anything now Lady Stark." He could play that game too. "Think on it a bit. We've got time still." And with that he reached for her hand, brought it to his lips, and while not taking his eyes off her he placed a lingering kiss on her fingers.

He straightened, turned, and walked out of the library. Leaving her there to consider his words.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

As Sansa walked to the hall where everyone was to meet for dinner she couldn't help but think about everything Petyr had said to her. She knew his motives behind his words. There was more at play here than simply wanting her by his side and him on the Iron Throne. He was trying to get her to usurp her brother. But there had to be more. Jon had been Lord Commander of the Knights Watch. People liked him, followed him. It was more in align with his goals to have him on their side, to stand behind him, rather than be against him. She would make no moves against him until she understood fully what drove him to this course of action.

With that last thought she stopped mid step. Was she seriously considering going up against Jon? Of course she wasn't. He was her brother. Half brother, but brother nonetheless. She shook her head before she began walking again. What a fool she was, letting Lord Baelish into her head like that. Had she learned nothing these past years? He was a man who could not be trusted. This she knew. Yet time and time again she found herself falling under his spell, giving her trust to him too freely. The power he wielded over her was frightening. How has he buried himself so deeply under her skin? How had he wormed his way into her mind and thoughts? She hadn't a clue but she knew she needed to tread much more carefully in his presence. She did not care for the influence he had over her.

As she stepped into the hall she was assaulted by the noise. The room was filled with many men, and one young Lady. Food was being served and she made her way to her seat at the head table next to Jon. The room grew quiet after the last plates had been set down. Sansa had no hunger. Her days activities had stolen what appetite she may have had. As she sat back in her chair she watched the men eat and talk and drink.

And then the men started arguing amongst themselves. The Lords of the North not wanting to align themselves with Wildlings. Jon stood up and stopped their petty squabble. He reminded them how the Free Folk, Kinghts of the Vale, and the Northerns had all just fought side by side to defeat the young Bolton and his rather large army. Some of the men found their duties fulfilled and wished to leave Winterfell and head home because winter had at long last come.

She watched as Jon reminded the men that the war had only just begun. That their duties to their land and their people was not yet over. The mention of the White Walkers put everyone in the room on edge. She could feel the tension rising like bread in an oven. She spotted Petyr in the corner of the room, standing against the wall, taking everything in. He caught her eye and gave her a knowing look. She tried to keep hold of his stare until he broke it first, but she found herself looking away when the blush started to creep up her neck. She despised the feelings he stirred within her.

Just as Jon was losing his audience Lady Mormont stood and gave a rousing speech to all those in attendance. She reminded them of all they had lost; sons, fathers, friends. She chastised them for not standing with Jon and Sansa and helping them fight the Bolton army. She preached how House Mormont remembered. How the North remembered.

In her words "We know no king but the King in the North who's name is Stark."

Sansa looked at Jon. He appeared utterly dumbfounded. No one had ever really praised him, gave him his due credit, as Lady Lyanna Mormont was at this very moment. In her heart she knew that this was a man who deserved to be King. In a world full of men who wanted power, very few actually deserved it. Her half brother was one of them. A small smile grew on Sansa's face as the young Lady spoke on.

The men all started to rumble in agreement. Then slowly, one by one, each man in the hall pledged themselves to Jon and declared him King in the North. Pride bubbled inside Sansa. This was her bastard brother and he was chosen King by all who stood by them.

She stole a look in Petyr's direction and saw him looking around as all the men drew their swords in the King's name. She wouldn't say he looked nervous, slightly uneasy would be a better description. Sansa smiled internally. What did he expect? For all his dominoes to fall into place? For her to stand up and argue against all the Lords? But even though she was quite pleased with the things that were currently transpiring, she couldn't help the nagging feeling in the back of her mind. As much as she hated to admit it, Lord Baelish had an uncanny ability to know things, sense things. If he was uneasy about what was happening she'd be a fool not to proceed with caution herself.

Jon looked to her for reassurance and she gave him a smile, easing his mind that she, too, was on his side. With a last look at Littlefinger, their eyes met. Her small smile slowly faded as she saw the look on his face. It was the look you gave a young lad who was going on about a serious matter they knew not about and you hadn't the heart to stop them and tell them before they made a fool of themselves. Slowly, the unease inside her grew.

As Petyr watched all the men grovel at Jon's feet, wanting forgiveness for their ignoring his requests for help in the battle, he just leaned back against the wall and shook his head ever so slightly. These fools were completely misplacing their trust and loyalty. They knew not what they were saying, blindly following the wrong leader without having all the knowledge in which is needed to make such a decision. Sansa was the true heir to the North. She was the one they should be pledging allegiance to. The one they should be naming Queen in the North.

Petyr caught Sansa's eye and he felt a small sense of relief as he saw her smile slowly fade away into unease. Good. That told him that his words had not fallen on deaf ears. Perhaps that meant that after all these years she had finally learned that when he told her something, she should listen and take heed his advice. A sad look of discontent fell apon his face. Once her face had fully faltered, he stood up straight from against the wall, gave her one last pointed look, then walked out of the hall and outside into the cold.

"Fools, the whole lot of them." He muttered to himself. He wished not to speak with anyone else this night and made his way to his chambers. He had not expected Sansa to act this evening. Did not expect her to stand her ground against Jon Snow. But nevertheless, he was still disappointed in the happenings of the evening. It was expected, yes. Petyr Baelish was a master at reading people and predicting their upcoming actions. It was a true gift of his. He found most people rather predictable and as result, quite dull. It was not often that some one caught him off-guard. Those rare moments, however, he quite enjoyed. Variety was the spice of life, or so they said. He found the momentary interlude from mundane scheming and manipulation quite pleasurable. It kept him on his toes, and his mind sharp.

But those moments were sadly few and far between. The things that this man knew would leave everyone's head spinning. Especially that of Sansa and Jon Snow. He smirked to himself as he entered his chamber and closed the door behind him. The sweet little Direwolf did not know what was coming. He would be the one to share the news with her, of that he was certain. However, he must bide his time and wait for the right moment. He wondered how she'd react when she discovered there were not only wolves residing in her little den of Winterfell.

A/N: I bet y'all can figure out what Littlefinger knows!


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Sansa awoke slowly, stretching her limbs to work the kinks out. As she lay on her back staring up at the canopy above her bed she thought about how far she'd come in just a short month. Not long ago she'd been held prisoner right here in her own home. One would assume that this captivity would have fared better than when she was held hostage in Kings Landing, but one would be assuming wrong. In the Capital she had been mistreated, abused, tortured, taunted, almost anything you could think of. She had imagined it didn't get much worse than that. She had been sorely mistaken. When Littlefinger had brought her back to Winterfell she did not think she could be any happier. She was not pleased that she was to wed Ramsay for she knew of his families perversions. But what she hadn't expected was what she got once she became Lady Sansa Bolton. As the months passed she found herself longing for Kings Landing. She could much easier handle the treatment of her there as opposed to here in her childhood home.

Ramsay had done things to her, things she couldn't have imagined up in her mind if she had tried. Not only had he left mental and emotional scars she assumed would never dissipate, but he had left physical scars too. Sansa rose from her bed and walked to the large mirror propped up against the wall and watched herself as she let her night shift fall to the ground. Never wanting to harm her face, for it was the face of the North, that was left unmarked. The rest of her, however, was not. As her eyes roamed down her naked body she traced a light finger over some of the more prominent scars. They were all healing nicely. A strange man, Ramsay was. After a night of torture, he made sure the maester came to clean her wounds and tend to them properly. He said he hadn't wanted her to fall ill or look too gruesome. She imagined he wanted her to heal completely so that he could have a fresh canvas to work on time and time again, until her dying day.

Her finger lingered over her left breast, following the shape of the two crescents that were facing each other. His teeth leaving their impression forever in her skin. She skimmed past the many little nicks that covered her chest and torso. He hadn't wanted to harm her in any way that would prevent her from giving him an heir. So her stomach was largely left alone. Her thighs and back and buttocks were a different story. One particularly large gash on her inner left thigh was still scabbed over. It had not had the time to heal yet. That was the last time he had touched her. Her eyes looked over to her right thigh. That one was healed. He had made that one their first week as man and wife. It was two rather large letters. R B. He had branded her, telling her that no one else was ever to have her. That she was his and his alone and she'd be best to remember that. He'd promised to always make sure that one was visible, that if it ever started to fade he'd cut into her pale flesh and rebrand her.

Sansa turned around and looked at her backside in the reflection. Whip and belt lashes were sprinkled generously from her thighs all the way up her back. She had a few more bite marks on her shoulders as well. She shuddered remembering all the harsh ways he had taken her, the ways he had manhandled her. She knew there was pleasure to be had when lying with a man, but with Ramsay she had never felt any. Not a single ounce. The bruises were almost all faded by now, but the scars still remained. She did not cry while looking at her reflection. Rather, she grew tougher, stronger, harder. Like she promised herself the day before, she closed her eyes and pictured his hound, the alpha, as he stepped up onto Ramsay's lap. She remembered the way the dog had licked his broken face. And then the way he'd taken a bite. Having been starved for a week the animal no longer cared who his owner was. He was hungry and Ramsay had been a juicy plate of meat served to him on a silver platter. The hounds were better cared for now that Tormund was their owner.

She walked to the wardrobe where her dresses were kept and slipped into her small clothes. She then opened her door and called for Ingrid, ready to get this day started.

Petyr had begun his day rather early. Being Lord Protector of the Vale he was expected to sit in on council meetings. Though most found these meetings rather tedious, Petyr quite enjoyed them. What better way to learn how your possible enemies might behave in battle than straight from their mouths. The men broke for middays meal and Petyr chose to have his food outside. He had gone to the kitchen to ask a servant for a bit of bread, cheese, and chicken to be wrapped in a cloth so he could enjoy the beautiful day outdoors. The young kitchen maid had blushed as he idly flirted with her while she prepared his pack. Make friends in all places, he always told himself, for even the most lowly knew things that could crumble a kingdom. This poor young bird was putty in his hands. He let his hand linger on hers as he took his food from her outstretched hands. She turned red and shied away from his stare. Lifting her chin with his fingers she looked in his eyes and he told her "Thank you, little bird. I shall think of you while I taste your... vittles." He said the last word with a smirk on his face, hoping she would insinuate he had meant something else entirely. She did not disappoint.

He shook his head as the door closed behind him. Women, especially young maidens, were so simple to manipulate. Not all were, however. His little pawn proved a much harder egg to crack. But was that not one of the main reasons he found himself so drawn to her? Her unwillingness to cave to his charms. Once he had had her in his hand, able to mold her any way he wished. He foolishly squandered that chance away when he married her to Ramsay Bolton. She had wanted him. Had thought the marriage proposal he had secured for her was with him. He can still remember the disappointment in her eyes when he had told her it was not for him. His heart ached at that moment. He knew the time for having what he had wanted, her, was not then.

As he walked through the the main grounds and out the gates he let his mind clear of old feelings. They were done, no need to dwell. Petyr picked a spot under a tree where a log lay uncovered from snow, just in the outer linings of the trees. He opened his pack and noticed two sweet cakes among his requested food, lemon cakes to be exact. He smiled to himself, that little bird may come in handy one day. He sat and ate while staring off into the distance, not focusing on any one point, and went over the morning's council meeting details. Everyone in the North was to fight along side King Jon in the coming war against the White Walkers. Petyr had yet to decided what he would ultimately do with his Knights, but he kept that information to himself. While in the presence of others he declared his devotion to the King in the North. He couldn't very well distance himself from Jon's side until he had Sansa on his.

As this thought crossed him mind he heard a very familiar voice call to him. "Lord Baelish." Her voice was sweet as angels singing and he could not help the feeling of joy at hearing his name on her lips that grew inside him.

"Lady Sansa, how are you this day?" He asked her, returning her formal address. "You look radiant in that dress. Your House colors suit you perfectly." He enjoyed watching her blush grow with his compliment.

"I am well, my Lord. Are you out here alone?" She asked, looking around.

"Aye, that I am. Would you care to join me? I have some lemon cakes here, and I know how you love those." He replied, tempting her with the gifts of the kitchen servant.

Sansa looked a bit unsettled at his request, but curiosity won out and she agreed to join him. She sat next to him on the log and he handed her one of the cakes. She took it, thanking him, and tore off a small piece and placed it in her mouth. His breath stopped as he watched her put her fingers to her lips. She was unaware of his staring, thank the Gods. He recovred himself before her eyes looked up to meet his. "This is quite good." She said, mouth full of cake.

Petyr smiled and gave a small chuckle as he nodded. "I imagine they are." They sat in silence for a few minutes enjoying their food. Petyr decided he did not want to scare her off by talking politics. He very much enjoyed her company and he wished to have one days peace to stay by her side. Moreover, he wasn't going to win her trust and persuade her to his side if all he ever did was scheme and manipulate with her. She needed to see another side of him. His softer side, reserved only for her, and her mother before. He did not like to be so geniune with people, as it usually was seen as a weakness. Weakness lead to mistakes and failure. Petyr did not spend his life setting himself up to fail. But Sansa was the key to the North. And though she was a pawn in his Game, he did truly love her. He did not want to see her hurt or worse.

He looked over to the auburn haired beauty and dared to touch her braid. She looked quickly down at his fingers as he softly ran them down the bottom half of her braid. He let his hand fall on the log in between him when he had reached the end of her hair and looked up into her eyes. For a long moment they sat there, staring. Her lips parted as she took in an uneasy breath.

Sansa felt her mind go fuzzy. He was so close to her. She could feel his warmth up against the side of her. As she took a shaky breath she watched his eyes fall to her lips. He bite his bottom lip ever so slightly, unknowingly to himself she presumed. She found herself wishing that it was her lip he was biting instead of his own. She wanted to turn away, to get up and run back within the walls of Winterfell and into her chambers, but move she could not. She was frozen to that spot on the log, pinned by the eyes of Lord Petyr Baelish. Her hand moved from her lap to lay on top of his in between them. Quickly his eyes darted up to hers at the touch. The air around them grew thick. She was beginning to find it hard to breath. Sansa stood up right then, nearly fainting at the speed in which she rose. Her eyes clouded and she saw silver stars around the edges of her vision.

Noticing her unbalance, Petyr reached out to steady her with a hand on her waist. He stood so he could balance her with one hand on each of her hips. Her back was to his chest and she fell back against him, but only enough for support. She had not fainted. They stood there like that, her against him, his hands on her hips, for a moment. Then Petyr walked around to face her, circling his hands around her, never letting his touch be removed from her body.

"Are you ok, my love?" He asked her, leaning in close.

Sansa felt her head go light again, but this time for another reason. For other feelings. Her mind was too muddled to try and stop him as he moved closer still. She shook her head in different directions, not really remembering the question.

Petyr tended to not make advances on women who were too confused to make a proper decision on if they wanted him to or not, whether it be by drink or lust clouding their minds. But at the present time he could not find the will nor the want to stop himself. He leaned in at a snails pace, making his intentions very clear and deliberate, giving her plenty notice to stop him should she want him to. She did not stop him.

He watched her eyes flutter closed as he was almost descended on her lips, and in response closed his. He gently brushed his lips across hers, left then right. She let out a small sigh and her mouth opened ever so slightly in the process. Using only his tongue, he traced a fine path down across her bottom lip, then up around the top one, finishing it off by capturing her mouth in a full on kiss. As his mouth crashed down on hers his arms encircled her waist and brought her tight against his body. He held her like she was his lifeline, saving him from being swept away in the strong currents of the sea. Her arms were quickly wound around his neck and she met his kiss with a passion all her own.

The woods seemed to be intoxicating for them, influencing their actions in ways that were out of their control. Her hands sought out his hair and she pulled on the stands at the back of his head, giving him more pleasure than pain. His response was to grab her braid and pull it back, exposing her long, fair skinned neck to him. He kissed his way along her jaw, and down her neck, leaving little love bites along her flesh. As he worked his way to the part where her neck met her shoulder he faltered. It took her a moment to realize he had stopped his affections. Her mind cleared and she felt his finger tracing in a small oval along her shoulder.

Instantly she knew what he was doing, what he was seeing. As if she had been struck by lightening she jumped back out of his grasp. Sansa saw the look of pain, hatred, and sadness in his eyes. She couldn't bear to have him see, so she turned and ran back to her chambers as quickly as her long skirts would allow her. Mortified, she slammed the door to her rooms and pressed her back against the door, taking quick ragged breaths. As her heart slowed and the adrenaline ebbed the emotions crept in. Her breath hitched as she tried to stifle the cries she knew were coming. A few unsuccessful attempts to keep them at bay later she broke down into a sobbing mess. Slowly, she slid down the door and crumpled into a ball on the floor.

Standing in a daze at the edge of the forest, Petyr watched as Sansa ran back through the gates. He had known he had hurt her, had hurt her in unimaginable ways. He had known that Ramsay had left scars. Sansa had told him herself. Yet seeing them, seeing the marks left on her delicate skin, brought a rage in him he had never known. Had the sadistic bastard not already been killed he would have marched to where ever in the in Seven Kingdoms he was this very moment and end his miserable life himself.

After a long time, hours he assumed, the anger was finally fading enough for him to form a clear thought. The first thing he knew he needed to do was to find Sansa. He needed to find her and console her and let her know that no matter what that bastard did to her, she was still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He needed her to understand that. Leaving the remnants of his lunch on the ground near the log, Petyr made his way back inside the castle. He headed straight for Sansa's chambers and ignored anyone who tried to stop him along the way.


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: You will recognize some of the dialogue. I am trying to stay somewhat true to their characters. I don't believe there will ever be a true reconciliation and joining of these two characters in the show, but a girl can dream.**

Chapter 4

Soon enough, Petyr found himself standing outside Sansa's door. He raised his hand to knock but paused midair. He needed to compose himself first. This was obviously a sensitive subject for her, which did not surprise him, and he needed to have his thoughts clear and mind sharp. He did not want her misreading his anger towards the little monster as disgust towards her. A few moment later Petyr was visibly calmer, if not internally.

Knock knock knock. No answer. Knock knock knock. Still no answer. "Sansa? It is me, Petyr. I know you are in there. Please let me in." He asked her through the door. No answer. He tried the knob and found the door locked. Knock knock knock. "Please Sansa, I do not wish to speak loudly though the door, there are too many ears close by." He heard a shuffling sound on the other side of the door and he stood up straight, his arms down flat against his sides. After a few moments the door opened and he stepped inside.

Sansa was hiding behind the door, not letting herself be visible when she had opened it. Her head was down, hiding her features. Once the door was closed and Petyr had locked it he walked up to her and waited a moment. She was scared and nervous and angry. She was angry because she had been crying, and because he had seen. She was nervous because a part of her wanted him to want her, to find her desirable. That was a lie. More than just a part of her wanted that. The whole of her wanted him to want her. After all he'd done to her, all he'd put her through, she still loved Petyr Baelish. She still wanted him like she had in the Eryie. She was scared that he would not want her if he knew just how broken Ramsay had left her. And then, the anger was back, it was his fault she was like this. He may not have hurt her with his own hands, but he had wed her to Ramasay. He had taken her from monsters that murdered her family and given her to other monsters who had murdered her family.

Of all her emotions anger won out. She looked up at him, fire in her eyes. He stepped back, startled by what he saw.

"Sansa, you ran off. You ran off before I could say anything..."

She cut him off, "What did you want to say, Petyr?"

"I wanted you to know that I think you are beautiful. I think you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I know you have been through horrific and terrible things, but none of that changes the fact that I think you are true and rare beauty. Even with the scars left behind, you are still most beautiful to me." He tried to ease her mind, assuming she was mad he'd seen the marks she had obviously wanted to stay concealed.

"Beautiful? I'm still beautiful to you?" She said in a sardonic tone. "Well Gods, I should hope that I am still beautiful to you. You are the reason this happened to me. You are the reason I married Ramsay Bolton. You gave me to him! Did you not know what he was like?" She asked. Uninterested in his answer she continued. "If you didn't know what he was like you are an idiot, and if you did you are my enemy." She spat.

Petyr was yet again caught off guard by her reactions. "I swear to you, I had no idea he would... I underestimated a stranger. It is a mistake I will never make again, I swear to you." He pleaded. She did not look convinced. "Sansa, I am so sorry."

"Sorry? You're sorry. What do you think he did to me? Tell me." She demanded.

"Sansa, I can't even begin to contemplate..."

"Tell me!" She yelled.

"He bite you?" He asked, even thought he had seen the evidence first hand.

"Yes. What else do you think he did to me?" She implored.

"Did he cut you?" As much as he wanted her to say no, he could assume that he would have seeing as their house sigil was a flayed man.

"Oh yes, he definitely did that. Would you like to see?" She sneered at him. Sansa was riding high on her anger now, enjoying watching the Lord squirm.

Petyr did not know how to respond. Her actions were contradicting her normal behavior. His mouth opened and he slightly shook his head, unsure what to say.

"Well it doesn't matter what you want. You are going to see. I am going to show you what your scheming, and lies, and manipulations have done to the one you say you love." And with that she began to undo her dress.

Petyr walked to her and placed his hands atop hers trying to halt her actions. "No, you don't need to show me. I am truly sorry, I am. I did not know."

She brushed his hands aside harshly and continued in her task. She let her dress fall to the ground around her feet. She still wore her shift that went under her dress and her small clothes, so she was not fully bare to his eyes. She pulled the neckline of her shift to the side to reveal the scar he had already seen. "You are aware of this one. Are you not?" She asked. "Are. You. Not?" She asked again, in a more demanding tone when he did not answer.

"Yes." Petyr answered meekly.

"Good. On to the next." Her shift had buttons all the way down the front to the bottom hem. It was a thicker material, made for winter. She steadily undid the top four buttons, revealing the top of her bosom. Before she opened the top she looked back up at him, wanting to witness his reaction.

Petyr looked into Sansa's eyes, silently pleading with her to stop, that this wasn't necessary. But she was having non of that. He saw in his periphial vision that she had opened the top of her shift and hesitantly he looked down. His eyes widened ever so slightly at what he saw. Trying his best to hide his emotions he chanced a glance back to her eyes. Her gaze was steely and unforgiving. Petyr swallowed hard and looked back down to the mark on her breast, identical to the one he had found on her shoulder. He wanted to touch it, erase it and the memory of its origin with a sweep of his fingers.

"Lovely little mark, isn't it?" She said in mock praise. Petyr was smart to keep his mouth shut. "I'll spare you my torso, for that was not harmed so much as the rest of me. My dearly departed husband had wanted an heir after all." She let go of her underdress but didn't bother to button them back up.

Petyr was surprised as she reached down to grab the hem of her shift and lifted it high, entirely too high to be considered appropriate. But propriety was not a top concern of hers at the moment. He dared to look down at her long, pale legs and was unable to control his gasp at what he saw. He looked up at her and saw a triumphant smile on her face. Petyr's own face reflected the profound regret he felt within himself.

"Look at it. Look at what you did to me when you gave me to him." She hissed. "You see this one there?" She asked, pointing to a gash that was still healing. "He did that one last. Before Theon and I escaped. And this one," she said pointing to her other thigh "he did the week we married. You see it? I am branded. I am his. Forever his. This shall not go away, ever. Every time I look down at it I am reminded of where he has been, what he has done. Every time you close your eyes I want you to see it too. I want you to remember what your actions did to me." Her voice was breaking now, just as his heart was.

Petyr did not dare to look at her face, instead he reached out and touched her healing wound. She flinched away from him as if his touch was that of a viper who had struck. She backed up to the wall and he looked up at her and walked towards her. This time he reached for the scar she had shown him on her breast. His eyes never leaving hers, he reached forward and held her underdress in his fingers. Slowly, he looked down and opened the unbuttoned flap, revealing the mark on her delicate flesh. Gently, he traced his finger around the oval, as he had on her shoulder. Keeping his eyes on his fingers, he leaned forward and placed a kiss on the mark, lingering there, proving he was not afraid.

She stiffened under his touch and froze at his kiss. She had expected him to see her skin, see what was left of her once perfect body and run. Surely no one would want her as she was now. But she had been wrong, like so many times before. She wanted to hate this man, and in many ways she did. But not in enough ways to make her stop him. She longed to be touched gently, to be cherished, to be loved. He was giving her all of that and more. She didn't have the strength to turn him away any longer. She found that her broken and confused heart could love and hate the same man all at the same time.

Petyr began to undo the rest of the buttons before she realized what was happening. She reached up to stay his hands and he looked deep into her eyes and said, "No, my love, let me. I want to see. I want to see everything. You're beautiful and I want to make you feel that way." She dropped her hands to her sides in response. He continued until he reached her waist and the shift fell off her shoulders and to the ground. Standing there in front of him with nothing but her small clothes on and the firelight dancing across her skin, his heart stopped. She was more breathtaking than he could have ever imagined. He drank her in, from bare feet all the way up to her fiery braid that had loose tendrils framing her angelic face.

Leaving what little she had left on alone, he continued his soft touches all over her body. He dropped to his knees in front of her and kissed every knick across her middle. Her stomach clenched and her breath hitched each time his lips touched her body. He looked up and saw her eyes closed and tears falling silently down her cheeks. He looked to the letters engraved on her leg and red hot anger flashed within him, boiling up, threatening to spill out. He kissed her there, and on her other leg where the healing wound was.

While still on the floor in front of her he used his hands to guide her into turning around. With her back to him, he was now free to let all his emotions play out on his face. The lashes that were peppered all over her backside from her legs up to her neck were his undoing. Resting his head agains her lower back, his hands on her hips, he gave himself a few minutes to calm himself. Petyr Baelish was not a man who was known to cry, but this night he found himself doing just that. What had he done to his love, to his brave little Direwolf?

Sansa felt a bit more at ease with her back to him. The tears stopped falling as she pressed her forehead against the wall. After a while she felt wetness where Petyr's face was pressed against her back. Was he crying? Surely Lord Baelish did not cry. Did he? But yet, the evidence proved it to be true. Was he crying over her ruined body? Was he displeased with what he saw, and because of it found her grotesque?

"Petyr, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have..." She began, apologizing for forcing him to look at her appalling appearance. Before she could finish her sentence he had turned her back around, silencing her words. He stood before her and grasped her face in his hands and kissed her. He kissed her softly, sweetly, and with a sadness that she felt too. As he kissed her the tears began to fall once more. He did not act aggressively, instead his kisses stayed sweet and light. While still holding her face in his hands, he moved to kiss her eyes and cheeks, erasing any traces of tears. He kissed her lips once, twice, thrice more, then let his hands travel down her arms to hold her hands and took a step back.

"Sansa, do not ever apologize for anything. You have done nothing wrong. I am the one who has wronged you. I am the one who caused you all this pain, all this hurt. I shall never forgive myself for what has happened to you and would completely understand if you did not forgive me yourself. You are beautiful. My opinion on the matter has not changed. Everything you've done, everything you've been though has made you into the woman that stands before me today. If I could take back all your pain, all your suffering, I would. Without hesitation. But I can't. So all I can do is stand here and tell you that I love you. I love every part of you. Every wound, every scar, every memory, good or bad. I love you Sansa Stark. That is a truth I can no longer deny."

Sansa wanted to call him a liar, wanted to see the deceit in his eyes and cast him out of her life for good. But she knew just from looking at him that he only spoke the truth. She believed that he truly did lover her, just as she was. In that moment Sansa never felt more beautiful or strong. His words rose her up from the depths of despair and brought her into the light. She shivered as the cold made its way through the heat that he had created in her.

"My dear, let us get you dressed before you catch a cold." He said as he reached for her robe that had been laid on her bed by Ingrid earlier in the day. He wraped her in the thick robe and led her to her bed. "Lay down my love, and I will hold you." Petyr said.

She did as she was told and made sure he had room to lay down beside her. She curled up on her right side, her back to him, and he pulled her close to his chest, wrapping his arms around her tightly. He kissed her hair and whispered in her ear "I love you. I'm not going anywhere. Get some sleep. I'll be here all night and when you wake in the morning." And with his words she closed her eyes and let sleep come.

Sansa slept without a nightmare, and had the best sleep she'd had since before she first left Winterfell for Kings Landing all those years before.

 **Let me know what y'all think! Do you like where the story is headed?**


	6. Chapter 5

A/N: I just wanted to apologize if some of the updates seem fast while others are a bit slower. I am a single mom to 2 young boys and I'm also a flight attendant who only works Fri-Sun. So sometimes I have a bunch of time to update, other times I'm very very busy. I am always thinking about this story and how I want it to go, though. I appreciate y'all's patience. (In Texas "y'all's" is a word) I will not abandon my favorite fictional couple at this time. But as most of y'all know, life sometimes gets in the way. Also, I have a bad habit of not planning out how I want a story to go and just start writing and let it takes me wherever it leads me. Be warned... There is SMUT in this chapter! If that isn't your thing, you should stop reading now.

Chapter 5

The next morning Ingrid knocked lightly. Usually Lady Sansa was awake and waiting for her to help her dress. This morning, however, she received no response from her Lady. After knocking again and waiting a while, Ingrid tried the door. She was puzzled when she found the door locked, but knew enough to mind her own and left. She'd be back to check on Lady Sansa in an hour or two.

Petyr awoke with a slight startle. He had momentarily forgotten his whereabouts. The warm and soft woman in his arms quickly reminded him. As did his quite hard member. He shifted his hips away from her gently so as not to frighten her by his body's reaction to being in such proximity to the one he loved. Petyr spent many a year without the company of a woman's touch. Though he loved women and throughly enjoyed all they had to offer, he found them rather distracting. A man well versed in the ways of pleasing a woman, Lord Baelish was an expert without having to show off his expertise at all times. When he was younger he had given his talents more freely, but as he aged he learned that withholding was often times more to his benefit than not.

He lay there, holding her close, and breathed in her scent. He smiled as her loose hairs tickled his nose. This was not something Lord Baelish was used to. Sharing a bed with someone he actually cared for, actually loved. And the larger novelty was that they had not even consummated their love. She hadn't told him she loved him yet, but he knew. He could see it in her eyes. The way she didn't stop him last night from kissing her. If he had been any other man, she would have struck him and told him not to touch her, not to kiss her. She hadn't struck him. He nuzzled her hair a bit but stopped when he felt her stir in his arms.

Sansa woke slowly. Having had a night without any dreams or nightmares left her fully rested and peaceful. That was a rarity. She knew that the reason for her uneventful sleep was the man holding her. She had to admit to herself that she did quite enjoy the peace his presence brought her. Never had she had someone be as gentle and caring as he was with her. All her experiences with men had been brutal and rough and unkind. Petyr had shown her nothing but tenderness and affection. She found herself hoping she'd never again have to spend a night without the comfort that his touch brought her. But how would that even work? They were not married. She was a widow now and could remarry again, and no one would question her for how quickly it was if she married soon. They all knew the man Ramsay was, and surely word of his abuse towards her had spread at this point. She was certain most everyone knew more about her intimate life than she cared them to. But what did it matter anyway? She was no longer suffering at his hand. He was currently laying on the ground somewhere outside the walls of Winterfell in freezing piles of dog waste. At this thought she smiled.

Petyr was a little surprised. She had woken up many minutes ago but had not yet turned away from his embrace. Could she be enjoying it as much as he was, he dared to hope. He decided he would wait until she stirred first, see where she would take matters. He found that when left alone, she was not quite as timid and would advance on him herself. These were high hopes he had, but he did not stop with his fantasies. "Good morning Petyr." He heard her whisper, her voice thick with sleep. At the sound of his name on her lips his member that had finally grown flaccid twitched. Gods, he cursed internally. He usually had much better control over himself in this way, but Sansa broke throgh all his walls, and made him react in ways out of his control.

"Good morning Sansa. How did you sleep?" He replied, keeping his bottom half a safe distance from her as she slightly leaned back further into his arms. She was testing his patience and strength in ways she was unaware.

"I slept better than I have since I first left Winterfell all those years ago." She replied. She found herself inching closer to him, seeking out the warmth and strength of his body, wanting him as close to her as possible. She frowned slightly as she realized he was keeping certain parts of him away from her. Then it dawned on her, it was morning. She remembered how Ramsay had always awoken aroused and ready to go on the rare nights he passed out in her chambers after using her. She chuckled to herself. Lord Baelish was aroused in her bed and trying to be modest about it. She toyed with the idea of embarrassing him over the matter. That could be quite fun.

"I am glad you had a peaceful night, my love. I, too, am feeling well rested. A rare thing for me I'm afraid." As he was talking Sansa turned herself in his arms to face him. He smiled at her as she smiled back at him. He noticed a devious look in her eyes and wondered what she was up to. "Sweet girl, what are you up to?" He asked, testing the waters.

"Girl?" She asked, cocking an eyebrow at him. "Does a girl do this to you?" She asked as she lightly brushed her hand down his torso and lower still, lightly skimming over his very hard cock. His hips slightly bucked into her hand, unvoulentairlily. She moved her hand back to her side after she was done proving her point. Mischief in her eyes. Oh, so his little pawn wanted to play did she?

With a speed she was not expecting he flipped her onto her back, pinning her down by her wrists, and hovered over her. "No, a girl does not do this to me." He said, slightly grinding down on her to emphesize the word 'this'. "But a fiery little wolf does." Gods, he wanted to take her right there. He wanted to devour her mouth with his while his hand pulled up her underdress, revealing herself to him. He wanted to plunge into her warmth and make her to feel the way no other man had. But he must be patient with her. If she was not yet ready to receive him, taking her in that way would only push her further from him.

As Sansa quickly lost the upper hand in her little game, she was surprised at how much she enjoyed it. The playfulness in her was fading, but the desire grew. As he pressed himself on her center all she could think about was wanting to push back against him. But he only briefly teased her, removing himself from touching her, save for his hands restraining her wrists. She stared up into his eyes, wanting everything from him. She wanted him to give her his all and take all of her in return. Her need to have him as close to her as possible grew with every passing second. She knew Petyr was a man of great self control. She knew he would not be making any bold moves with her first. She needed to initiate.

Sansa slowly let her right heel slide up Petyr's calf, up his thigh, then she circled her leg around his backside as best she could and used it to pull him down to her. His eyes never leaving hers, he let her control where he went. As soon as he was laying on top of her, between her legs, his eyes fluttered closed. Only for a moment. But the feel of her beneath him was one that had never been matched. She slightly arched her hips into his, begging for friction. He granted her her wish, his restraint slowly leaving his body. She smiled up at him triumphantly as he made slow circles on top of her while she matched his moves with her own.

She let her left leg follow the same path her right one had, slowly traveling up his body until both of her legs were wrapped around his waist. Her shift had fallen around her hips and he could fell her warmth and wetness through his pants and her bottom underthings. His resolve was dissipating rapidly.

"What are you doing to me, Sansa?" He asked, hoping she'd understand his meaning.

"I do not have control right now, Petyr." She replied.

"Oh sweet girl, you have all the control. Tell me, my love, what do you want? Tell me and I will do everything in my power to give it to you." His voice growing rough as he tried not to burst into flames, all while still making slow and steady circles on her.

Her breath hitched as his actions grew more focused at one point on her body. He knew exactly what he was doing to her. No matter how much control he claimed she had, the reality was that she had none. She was putty in his hands. "You, Lord Baelish. I want you. I want all of you, and I want you to have all of me in return." At her words his mouth crashed down onto hers in a powerful and demanding kiss. Wrapping her legs as tightly around him as she could she kissed him with fervor. Their tongues clashed, rolling together in a dance as old as time. He released one of her wrists so his hand could travel at its pleasure across her body. She used her free hand to do her own exploring. She felt the small but strong muscles of his arm, the tightness of his chest, and as her hand found the back of his head she held his mouth to hers.

He sat back on his heels in between her legs, trying to catch his breath. She felt cold and sad at the loss of him on her. "Are you sure this is what you want my dear?" He asked, afraid she'd say no. She looked at him, her chest heaving as her breathing slowed. "I've never been more sure about anything else in my life Petyr. Please, don't make me ask again." Though the words themsleves mean a demand, the tone in which she delivered them spoke of another intention. It was all she had ever wanted. To be wanted and loved and cherished by a man who truly felt those things towards her. It was everything she had never had, and now she wanted Petyr to give it to her. He had been the only man in her life who was capable of giving her these things she so desired. For he was the only man she had ever known who had made her feel this way. Gave her desires she didn't understand as a maiden. And desires that were left unfulfilled in her most recent marriage.

Not answering her with words, he began to undo his tunic and raise it over his head. Her gasp stopped him briefly until he remembered the large scar from his hip up towards his neck. She had shown him her scars last night, but he'd forgotten he had one of his own to share. She sat up and traced the scar from top to bottom with her fingers. She looked up into his eyes and in them he found understanding. She leaned forward to kiss the scar. His stomach contracted at the feel of her lips on his bare flesh. She left small kisses from his collar bone, down his chest, and onto his stomach. He stopped her before she traveled any farther south. He did not think he could contain himself if her mouth was any closer to his cock.

He reached for the hem of her shift and she raised her arms as he slowly lifted it off of her. She blushed fiercely and tried to cover herself though she was still in her small clothes as his eyes looked over her body. "Do not be shy, my love. You are a beautiful woman. The most beautiful I have ever seen. Please Sansa, do not be ashamed. You and I are not so different in some aspects." he said, running his hand down his scar for emphasis. This seemed to help ease her mind and her hands fell from her body.

He undid his pants and britches and stood at the foot of the bed and let them fall to the ground, revealing his entire self to her. She looked at him, from head to knee, for the rest of his body was hidden behind the bed. She thought he was perfect. He did not look mean and hurtful like Ramsay did. No sadistic grin twisting his features. He was a man with whom she could give her full trust to. She began to untie her top and bottoms before he rejoined her on the bed. He watched, mesmorized, as she unwrapped the greatest gift anyone had ever bestowed upon him. The sunlight coming through the window cast light onto her body, highlighting all her scars. Rather than detract from her beauty, he found the marks added to it. They showed she had strength to survive.

Once her clothes were fully removed, Sansa laid back on the bed, opening herself to him. Waiting. He crawled on all fours across the bed to her, kissing from her hip, across her stomach, and to her breast. He suckled one, swirling his tongue around her hardened nipple as small gasps and moans escaped her lips. He turned his attentions to the other one, not wanting it to feel left out. She arched her aching body into his hard one as he worked his mouth over her breasts. He wanted to take his time on her, to kiss and lick and suck on ever inch of her body. But neither of them possessed the patience for that this day. The tension between them was too great and he found himself already pressed against her inner thigh waiting at the doors of her entrance, his tip wet with her want.

He kissed his way up her neck and to her mouth. She begged against his lips "Please Petyr, I need you. Now." She did not have to ask twice. He kissed her deeply as he sank into her until he could go no further. Her moan was exquisite. He had never heard a sound more beautiful than the one leaving her lips because of his own doing. He looked at her face, not yet having moved once he was fully inside her. He wanted her to look at him before he began. After a moment her eyes opened and her lips parted. Her hands were on his biceps and she had brought her feet up off the bed, bending her knees, allowing him more acces to her.

While staring into each other's eyes, Petyr slowly drew out of her. The feeling of loss from the separation was strong for the both of them. Once fully out of her he paused before pushing back inside the warmth of her. "You are so beautiful, my little wolf. I love you Sansa." he said then watched her eyes roll back into her head as he slowly trusted into her again, and again, and again. She was tight, and her insides grabbed onto him, pulling him deeper inside her with each thrust. He could not keep up his slow pace long. As her moans gradually got louder and her legs wound tighter and tighter around his middle, he lost himself in her. He let himself loose and kissed her as his pace quickened. He could feel her release coming on fast and hard. She shuddered underneath him and he muffled her loud scream with is mouth as she rode out the waves of her passion. He found that to be his undoing. Not long after her, he found his release. It was stronger than he could ever remember one feeling. Draining him mind, body, and soul. So caught up in the feel of her he did not remember to pull out of her before he emptied himself inside of her.

Sweaty and breathing heavily he laid on top of her, resting the bulk of his weight on his forearms. Her hands sought his face and she wiped the sweat from his brow. "I have never felt anything like that before." She murmured.

Rubbing the tip of his nose against hers he said "Is that so?" She smiled at him and reached up to give him a small kiss. He smiled, glad that though he may not of been the one to take her maiden hood, he had been the first to give her true pleasure. Slowly, he removed himself from inside her and she winced at the loss of him. He kissed her once more then rolled off of her and laid on his back, pulling her to rest on his chest.

"I could get used to waking up like this." Petyr mused aloud, stroking his hand up and down her arm. She did not answer. He worried that perhaps he had said too much, had crossed a line. But then he finally heard her speak.

"What do we do now?" She asked, afraid of the answer.

"What do you want, my love?" He asked, also afraid of the answer.

Both wanted the same thing but did not know how to ask. "I wish to always feel as safe and loved as I do at this moment." She replied quietly, idly running her finger along his scar. Petyr smiled largely. That he could give to her. But how to proceed. He didn't think a marriage proposal was quite what she was looking for at this moment, but maybe she was.

Sansa considered her words after she had spoken them. What exactly did she mean by them? It wasn't proper for a Lady to take a lover. Someone with her status needed to be married. But was that what she wanted from him? Yes, it was. It is what she has wanted from him since the Eyrie. But that wasn't the real problem. The real problem was if he only wanted her for his Games, or was it real? Could she trust him that completely?

"I worry..." She started "I worry that though you may have genuine feelings towards me, you would only use them to better your place in the Game. That I am only a means to an end." She finished.

He let her go slightly so he could prop himself up on his elbow and look at her face. She looked into his eyes with doubt and worry. It hurt him to see those there in her eyes. He had thought by now he had made it quite clear how he truly felt about her. "Sansa, you know that your name holds a lot of power and any man you marry will benefit from that power. But that does not mean that a man cannot love you genuinely also. They are not mutually exclusive. I have told you what I want, underneath the Godswood. But none of that compares to the way I feel for you. I would give it all up if it meant I could have you for the rest of my life. Together we could rule the world, with or without the Iron Throne. I have laid my heart out before you, all you have to do is to pick it up and keep it, or cast it away. What shall you do with it, now that it is all yours?"

Sansa thinks for a moment before she answers. Her mind screams at her to take him at his word. Her heart echoes the sentiment. Before she can stop herself she says "I shall keep it. I shall keep it close to my own and I shall cherish and protect it and return it's love. I love you, and that is what I want." She sealed her words with a kiss to his lips. His arms wrapped around her small frame as he brought her close to his body. After a while, though, he had to release her. The hour was growing later and soon her hand maiden will be here to help her dress. Petyr did not want to stir up gossip before they even had a chance to find their way together.

"I must leave you now, my love. Before anyone notices my presence here and rumors start." He says as he sits up and begins retrieving his garments. She nods her head in agreement.

"What do we do now?" She asks.

He looks at her as he ties up his pants. "I could officially court you. Ask your brother permission, with the intention to marry you." He offered.

Sansa worried her bottom lip and cast her eyes down to the rumpled bedcovers aS she considers his words. When her mind was made up she nodded her head up at him as he was finishing dressing. "Yes, that would be acceptable." She smiled at Petyr.

"My sweet love, you have made me the happiest man this day." Petyr smiled at her and leaned down to kiss her. He pulled away, much to his dismay. He would rather lay with her in her arms all day and night. But that would have to wait. Patience was one of his best qualities and he couldn't let it go by the wayside during one of the most critical times in his life when he truly needed it. "Let's straighten these pelts up a bit before your girl is here. We don't want to give her any ideas." He said as he fixed the bed so it appeared she had been alone in it all night. He walked around the room picking up her discarded clothes, handing her back her shift to put on. Sansa appreciated his actions, that he cared for her reputation. He set her things on the dressing chair neatly and turned to give her one last look before he departed.

"I shall see you soon, my love. But for now, I must go speak to the King in the North." And with a last glance at her he quietly left the room. He had wanted to spare her one last kiss, but knew that would be too dangerous. Her lips were intoxicating and he needed his wits about him before he had this talk with Jon. Petyr walked to his chambers to change. Surely it would send up warning signs if he was seen in yesterday's attire. His plans were going well, very well indeed. He was closer to his goals than he had ever been. He could hardly contain his elation. Finally, after a lifetime of being on bottom, Lord Petyr Baelish was headed to the top.

 **I rather enjoyed writing this chapter. Let me know what y'all think about it! Your reviews are my inspiration! Thank you to everyone who has followed and favorited this story! It makes me happy every time i get an email notification.**


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

After Petyr had closed the door Sansa laid back on the bed staring up at the canopy. She smiled as she thought through her morning, blushing as she remembered. Though she had no longer been a virgin, she wanted to think of this morning as her first time. Ramsay did not deserve the right to have claimed her virginity. As she lay there lost in her thoughts, her hand maid walked through the door.

"I'm sorry my Lady, I knocked and you did not answer for the second time this day. I was beginning to worry something bad had become of you." Ingrid apologized.

Sansa sat up with a confused look on her face. "For the second time this day?" She asked.

"Yes, my Lady. I came knocking 2 hours ago and there was no answer." She left out the part where she had tried the knob then as well. She had heard what her Lady had been up to in her chamber, not so alone. She did not wish to embarrass her Lady for fear she would lose her job. This was a very good position to have, being the servant to the Lady of the North.

"I see." Sansa said, relieved that Ingrid seemed unaware of her early morning, all night rather, guest. "I shall wear my blue dress this day. The one with the silver stitching." She requested. "Yes, my Lady." The young girl answered in reply.

Sansa did not have a set schedule for the day so she decided to break her fast in the hall with whomever else was present. Then she would walk around the whole of Winterfell with a builder and make plans with him to repair her home. As she made her way out of her chambers and into the hall, two young servants looked at her shyly, giggled, then quickly walked away in the opposite direction. What was that about, she wondered.

The hall was rather empty once she got there. It was a bit later than most broke their fast, but it was still morning. Around the ninth hour. She had some bread and leftover stew from the day before. Having entire armies to feed, the choices of food were slim. And with winter finally here, they would not be getting more plentiful as the times passed. She would have to get used to having the same thing over and over again. She glanced out the window as she enjoyed her food alone and spotted Petyr in the common grounds as he approached Jon. She watched as they spoke briefly, and then Petyr gave Jon a small bow, then followed him into one of the rooms off the side of the grounds used for meetings of Lords and the like.

Butterflies fluttered around inside her stomach as she watched the door close behind Petyr. She was nervous at what Jon might say to him. Would he be against a union between his sister and Littlefinger? She hoped not. Getting up from the table, her appetite lost, Sansa decided a walk outside the walls was what she needed to calm her nerves. As she reached the gates which were left open but always guarded, Ghost ran up beside her, joining her on her walk. She ran her fingers through his thick white fur and continued on her way.

Petyr walked to his chambers with a pep to his step. He could not believe his good fortune. Not only were his plans falling into place nicely, but he also had the affections of the sweet Sansa Stark. One could never say that Littlefinger was not a patient man. He had waited many years for her. And longer still for her mother. But his feelings towards Catelyn Tully were long dead. The moment she became Catelyn Stark any chance he had with her vanished along with her maiden name. But her memory lingered on in his mind and echoed through his heart. He had built her up so high no other woman could reach the impossibly high standards he set for a spouse. No one except for Catelyn's own daughter. That had never been his intentions when she married, to one day bed her daughter. His feelings towards Sansa were entirely separate from anything related to her mother. She was like Catelyn in so many ways, this was true. But in her core, Sansa was a much different woman. Not much like her mother or her father for that matter. She had a strength not easily matched. And her beauty was rivaled by none.

Petyr had wed Catelyn's sister, but that was purely a power play. He had never intended to stay married to her long. But he had not planned on making her fly as he had. But she had threatened Sansa. There was no choice but to get rid of the threat. He had rather been far far away when Lysa met her demise, but plans change. When he caught her holding Sansa over the moon door his heart stopped. He said all he could to talk that crazy woman back from the edge, literally. And once she had released Sansa he could breath again. He rather enjoyed toying with her like he had. Like a cat playing with a mouse before he devoured it. He could see in her eyes that when he said he had only ever loved one woman that she thought it was herself. The pain and heartbreak on her face when he told her it had been her sister he had always loved was a look he would never forget. Petyr could be a very kind and gentle man, but he had a mean streak in him as well. You did not cross Petyr Baelish and get away with it.

Petyr walked into his room and was met by a servant changing the water in the bowl on his table that he used for washing. "Good day, my Lord." The man said when he saw Petyr enter the room.

"Good day to you." Petyr said as he walked to his wardrobe to change.

"I noticed you did not make it to your chamber last night my Lord." The man said to Petyr.

Petyr grew annoyed quickly. "You will forget that you noticed anything of the sort. And you will make sure that anyone else who thinks they may have noticed forgets it too. Do you understand me?" He says quietly but sternly. The last thing he needed was for rumors to start flying and reach Jon before Petyr had a chance to talk with him.

"Yes my Lord. I noticed nothing." The servant said and made a quick exit, closing the door hastily behind him. Satisfied that the servant would do as he was bid, Petyr focused on the task at hand. He changed quickly and washed his face with the new water. After a glance in the mirror he left his room and headed down to the great hall to break his fast.

He was later than he usually was and the Lords he had normally eaten with were already gone. But he felt no hard feelings for having missed them. His morning was much more entertaining and enjoyable than a bunch of old men stuffing their faces and talking with full mouths. A small smile played upon his lips as the memory of Sansa naked and flushed underneath him flashed through his mind.

"Good day my Lord." A soft voice broke through his reverie. He looked up and noticed the kitchen servant from the previous day. My, how much things had changed since yesterday at noon.

"Yes, it is a good day little bird." He said, granting her a smile. She blushed. She sure was an easy one to manipulate. When she just stood there staring, Petyr began to grow bored. "Did you have something you wished to share with me?" He asked in a patronizing tone. She blushed even more and almost dropped what was in her hands.

"I- I made you this. I thought it would be better than just the stew." She stammered. He looked at her outstretched hands and noticed a small cake in her hands. This one was not a lemon cake, but it was a sweet one nonetheless. Looking back up into her eyes he gave her a most gracious smile and said "Thank you sweet one. Your favor will not go unnoticed." She smiled and curtsied then ran off back towards the kitchen.

Petyr ate the cake and thought to himself. He would have to do a nice thing for this little bird, that way she would always chirp for him whenever he needed. He made a mental note to find a flower to leave for her. That was innocent enough.

With his fast broken and no one else in the hall to distract him he set out on his search for Jon Snow, King in the North. He walked around the grounds for a brief time before he spotted the bastard King walking towards the practice grounds. Jon and Petyr had never had a conversation alone before. This was to be their first. He hoped he had payed enough attention during the meetings and after the battle to be able to read him well enough to keep the ordeal pleasant and so it would go his way.

"Your Grace, tis a fine day this day." Petyr said to Jon, bowing slightly from his shoulders.

"Aye, that it is." Jon said gruffly.

"Do you have a free moment that I might speak with you in private, your Grace?" Petyr asked.

Jon eyed him suspiciously but agreed to speak with the Lord alone. They walked to one of the rooms that was usually used for strategy meetings.

Once the door was closed Jon turned to Petyr and asked. "What is it that you wanted to speak with me about?" Petyr could appreciate a man who got right to the point without dragging out the purpose with niceties.

"Your Grace, I wished to ask your permission on a matter that has been in my heart for years." Petyr started. "Well, get on with it then." Jon replied. Not a very patient man was Jon. "I would like to court your sister with the intention to marry her. With your permission and blessings of course, your Grace."

Typically Petyr preferred to butter up whoever he was to ask a favor from. Remind them of all the things he had done to help them out and then ask. He went against his nature to just blurt out what he so wished without the buildup first. But he knew Jon was a man of few words and would not appreciate reminders of how he brought the Knights of the Vale to his rescue.

"Sansa?" Jon asked, truly surprised at what Petyr had just asked him.

"Of course Sansa your Grace." Petyr wished to elaborate but knew his audience better and held his tongue.

Jon walked across the room, head down, and he contemplated Petyr's request.

"She was just widowed." He said finally. "Not from a man she loved." Petyr reminded.

"That is true." He replied. After another moments thought Jon looked to Petyr and said "My sister has been through a lot in her young life. Too many horrible things to name. She does not deserve to have another man treat her badly or hurt her. I will not allow it. His head will be on a spike before he finds himself hurting her."

"Agreeably, your Grace." Petyr interjected.

Jon continued on. "I cannot give you permission to court my sister because the decision is not mine to make. I will speak with Sansa and if this course is the one she wishes to take, then I will give you both my blessing." Jon finishes.

"Yes your Grace. I understand. Thank you for speaking with me." Petyr said graciously. Jon gives him one nod then walks out of the door. Many years in the company of crows has eroded at his manners. He could not blame him. Jon was not raised to be a king. He was not properly taught how to conduct himself in certain matters. Perhaps that would be his down fall, though Petyr doubted it. Petyr knew other things about the bastard king that would flip the Realm upside down. But that was for another time. At the present moment Petyr had a meeting with the Lords to attend and a Lady to woo.

After an hours stroll through the woods, Sansa was beginning to get rather cold. She had not dressed for walking outside the walls of Winterfell that morning. She walked to the room she assumed Jon would be in to inquire about the builder and found him hunched over his table reading scroll after scroll. He looked up at her when the burst of cold air broke his concentration. "I am sorry, have I bothered you brother?" Sansa asked.

"No, I want to take a break from these dammned scrolls anyhow. Sit, I need to speak with you while you are here." Jon said.

Knowing what he was going to say, Sansa sat without any qualms. "Yes Jon. What is it?" She asked.

Seeming unsure with how to proceed, Jon struggled to get the words out. "I had a visitor this morning." He stated, not saying another word.

"And? Did they want something? Did they threaten you?" She was quite enjoying herself, watching him fidget with unease.

"No, no threats. It was Lord Baelish. He inquired about you." He finally got it out. He looked up into his sister's eyes and tried to read her expression. "And what exactly did he inquire, your Grace?" Sansa goaded him.

"Don't call me that Sansa. You know I don't like it. It's hard enough that I have to endure everyone else calling me 'Your Grace', I had hoped to keep some normalcy between us." He pleaded with her.

"I am sorry Jon, you know I only meant to tease you. You are speaking in riddles and taking entirely too long to spit out what you mean to say. I wanted to only give you a hard time about it." She explained.

"Thank you." He said sincerely. "About Lord Baelish, he asked for my permission to court you. He wants to marry you Sansa. I know you and him have a ...different relationship than most. I told him that I could not give him permission without speaking with you first. You are a grown woman and free to make your own choices on who you love and want to spend your life with. I will not be the sort of King who decides these things for people. It's not my place." He says. She doesn't say anything yet, waiting to see if Jon has more to say. "What shall I tell him? Are you interested in that sister? Do you love him?"

Sansa decides it is time for her to speak on the matter now. "I do love him. I do not know why I do, but here I am, loving him. He has hurt me and helped me time and time again. One does, however, outweigh the other."

"I thought you said that only a fool would trust Littlefinger?" He asked.

"I did, and I meant it. I suppose I am a fool. It is hard to explain though, how you can trust a man and not and the same time. He has my heart, as hard as I tried to keep it all for myself, it is his. But he does not rule my mind. Cloud it from time to time, yes. But I know what is right and I know what he wants. I want you to know, dear brother, that I will never betray you. No matter what. You are my blood. No one else. No matter who I marry, Littlefinger or someone else, you are my brother and I am your sister."

Jon considers her words "I trust you Sansa. I know I have your support and you have mine. We have so many enemies now, we must stand together. Always. If this is what you want, I will give you my blessing. And tell him the same." He says.

"It is." She says simply.

"Then it is done." Jon decrees. He stood up and walked to her and gave her a hug. After he released her he said to her jokingly "Now get going, your distracting your King from his duties." They shared a small laugh and she departed the room.

Sansa walked back to her chambers, too overwhelmed with thoughts of the past few days to see anyone else at this time. Her meeting with the builder will have to wait for another day.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

His meetings kept him occupied until late in the evening. Though he was growing tired, the cold woke Lord Baelish up as he headed straight for Sansa's chambers. He could not stop himself from thinking of her all day. He could not wait until morning to feel her in his arms again. As he neared her door he looked around for anyone who may be walking about in this part of the castle. He did not want anyone seeing him enter her room at such a late hour, out of respect for her reputation.

He knocked quietly and waited for her to open the door. He did not have to wait long. "Petyr!" She breathed excitedly and fell into his arms. They hugged each other tightly and briefly before he ushered her over the threshold so they could be alone. "I have been waiting all day to see you. I must admit that I have missed you." She confessed.

"And I you my little wolf. The day was long and seemingly never ending. I know that I shouldn't be here but I just had to see you before I retired for the night." He leaned towards her and kissed her softly. She melted in his arms and he wrapped them around her tightly.

After a few moments of kissing he set her free. "Do you need help out of that splendid dress my love?" He asked with a smirk on his face.

"I thought you'd never ask." She replied haughtily. Sansa turned around and let his deft fingers do their magic on the back of her dress. In no time she felt him sliding the gown down her arms, his hands brushing against every inch of skin they could in the process. He bent down to help her step out of the dress and then carried the heavy garment to her dressing chair. By the time he turned around he found her standing in front of him, completely undressed, glowing in the firelight.

His jaw dropped. She was more beautiful than one should be allowed. Walking towards him, brazen and bold, she let her fingers run down the front of his outer coat from neck to waist. Petyr gulped. He was not used to being seduced, preferring to be the seducer himself. "You're quite the temptress tonight my love." He said, trying to gain back some of the control he had lost.

Without saying a word she began to undo his clothes, a small smile on her lips the whole time. He stood still and allowed her to do as she wished. Once the task was completed he stood before her, just as bare as she was. She smiled down at his length and looking back into his eyes said "My, my Lord Baelish. I did not know that I was to bring a sword with me this evening." Circling around him, her fingers tracing a light circle around his torso, arm, back, arm, and around to the front again. "I find myself at a disadvantage here." She teased.

Placing both of her hands on his chest she walked him backwards to her bed. Once his legs bumped up against it she pushed him down on his back. "Perhaps we should see about sheathing that sword for the time being. What do you say?" She asked, not really a question though.

Petyr was truly at a loss for words. Whoever this woman before him was, he had not met her before, but he instantly loved her. Petyr did not know where she found her courage from but he hoped and prayed that she never lost it. His hands skimmed up her thighs as she straddled him. She sat back on top of his legs and gently held him in her hand. His breath caught in his throat at the feel of her on him. Sansa began to run her hand lightly up and down his shaft, reveling in his responses. His eyes screwed shut and his head fell back as she continued the up and down motions.

His grip on her hips grew tighter with each passing second. When he could take no more he dragged her foward abruptly and pushed her down onto him, sheathing his sword as she had mentioned earlier. Sansa cried out at the swift movement in pleasure, her head falling back and her eyes closing. Using his hands he guided her in a steady but rough pace on top of him. He had been gentle this morning, but the new attitude she had brought into play tonight caused all gentleness to leave his being. Back and forth, up and down, he moved her body, watching her as she bounced on top of him.

After a minute of adjustment, Sansa found her stride. He didn't have to do all the work now. She was moving with him, on him, together in sync. Overcome by desire that he had pent up for her over the years he flipped her off of him and onto her back. He grabbed one of her ankles and brought it over his shoulder, leaving her other leg down on the bed. He never stopped his endless assault on her body, pounding away as she moaned loudly, raking her nails up and down his back. She came loud and fast. He did not muffle her cries this night. Relentless he was, entering her over and over and over. After she had come down from her high, but before she reached the next peak he switched their positions again. He slid out of her and pulled her into his lap as he sat in the middle of the bed. She straddled him as she had before when he had been laying down, only this time he was face to face with her.

With one hand on her bottom guiding her movements, his other traveled to her hair and he kissed her passionately, leaving her breathless. When she broke the kiss to catch her breath he trailed kisses down her neck, nibbling and kissing his way to her perfectly round breasts. He sucked on her, kissed her, and licked her eveywhere his mouth could reach while never slowing the pace in which he entered her.

Her hands were on his shoulders and her nails dug in deep as she reached her second climax of the night. He let out a loud and gruff moan and he joined her this time, emptying himself completely inside the woman he loved. Utterly spent, Sansa let her head fall on his shoulder where it met his neck and breathed heavily until her heart stopped racing. An errant thought crossed her mind as she floated back to the earth. Did Petyr learn these talents in his brothels? Surely he had. And in this moment, she felt no jealously towards the women that he had laid with before her. She was grateful. If all the ones before her had created the lover that he was today, how could she be mad at them? She had heard enough stories and heard enough with her own ears to know that not every meeting of man and woman went this way. Sounded like they had. Too many times she had overheard the deep grunts of a man who lasted all of a few moments before finishing with the poor woman he had lain with.

Though she did not like that he owned brothels, she decided at that moment with her head against his neck trying to catch her breath, that she wouldn't be jealous of where Lord Baelish had been. Though she knew nothing but the brutal parts of love before Petyr, she knew she could not expect him to accept her for what was left of her if she did not do the same for him in return.

When her head was no longer dizzy from the fall off the highest peak, she leaned back to look into Petyr's eyes. She smiled at him and told him "I love you Petyr." He rubbed his nose against hers and asked "Is that what brought out the minx in you?" He teased. Laughing she nodded "Yes, I suppose it was."

He looked deep into her eyes, and with a serious tone told her "I love you too Sansa. With all I am and all I have. My heart is yours, completely." She kissed him sweetly and slowly climbed off of him. She laid back on the bed as Petyr rose and grabbed one of her cloths used for washing and soaked it in the water basin. He wrung out the excess water and walked to her to clean her.

She watched him as he began to dress and said "Are you not staying with me tonight, Lord Baelish?"

"I thought it best if I waited until after we were married before we were caught in bed together, Lady Stark." He smirked at her.

Pouting Sansa said "I suppose you're right." In response. Petyr smiled and shook his head at his little wolf. His good fortune where she was concerned was catching him off guard at every turn. And with that thought his mood fell. What goes up must come down. Surely things could not always stay this pleasant with her, could they? He'd be smart to assume not. Prepare for the worst, he always told himself. After he was fully dressed he sat down beside his Lady and grabbed her delicate hand in his.

"You know, this doesn't have to be like this for long if you don't want it to be." He told her.

"What do you mean?" She asked, confused.

"We are not bound by the same rules as we would be in Kings Landing. Our courtship and engagement do not have to be drawn out affairs. We could marry sooner rather than later my sweet love." He replied. Sansa considered his words, her fingers idly tracing circles on the back of his hand. "Would you not mind it if we were married quickly?" She asked. "Of course not my love. I've wanted to take you as my wife for a very long time now. Nothing would please me more than having you by my side every day and every night as Lady Sansa Baelish."

That was the first time she had heard what her new name would be out loud. She had thought it many times in her heard, but feared that if the words were spoken aloud they would become cursed and never come to fruition. She rather enjoyed the sound of her eventual name on his lips. One day, soon hopefully, she would be Petyr Baelish's wife and he her husband. A smile grew on her lips until her entire face lit up. "Yes, I would prefer a short engagement. Can we make it official tomorrow and plan to be wed by next week?" She asked, smiling up at Petyr. His heart swelled with pride. This devine woman was to be his wife in a week's time. Kissing her forehead he told her "Yes my love. Tomorrow we will announce our engagement."

Sansa, unable to contain her excitement, scrambled up into his lap, straddling him once more. She kissed him deeply then hopped off of him and ran to put on her night shift and then her robe. Slipping into her shoes Petyr stood and stopped her. "What are you doing little wolf?"

"I've got to go tell Jon!" She exclaims. "I want him to announce it in the morning as we break our fast, while everyone is present. He'll need to know before hand, won't he not?" She dared him. He nodded in agreement, a grin playing at the corners of his mouth. She was going to be an interesting wife, that was for sure.

Before he could stop her she had her cloak around her shoulders and she dashed out the door. He waited a moment before following her out, peeking to make sure no one was around. He knew that they had likely been heard by anyone who was within a hundred yards of her chamber, but the good thing about her being in the Lord's Chamber was that no other rooms were nearby. Petyr considered joining her as she told her half brother but thought better of it when he remembered the state of dress she was in. Best not give him reason to deny their request to marry, even though he had said it was not up to him to decide.

Instead, Petyr made his way to his chambers. He was exhausted and apparently was going to have a big day tomorrow. He needed rest. Once alone in his room and undressed, again, he climbed in bed and fell asleep with thoughts of Sansa and her tight body riding him like a horse.

Sansa burst into Jon's room, forgetting to knock. Instantly she regretted her haste and was thankful he was alone and not entertaining a guest as she had just been. Jon startled at her enterence and jumped up from his chair by the fire where he had been reading. "What is it? Are you all right?" He rushed to her, grabbing her by the shoulders, eyes scouring her body for any sign of harm.

"Yes yes brother, I am quite alright. I only came to share the good news!" She exclaimed. "Well, what is it?" He asked.

"Petyr and I would like it if you announced our engagement tomorrow in the great hall as everyone breaks their fast." She said joyfully.

Jon took in her state of dress and asked "When did this engagement happen?" Sansa blushed and looked away from him. "Do not judge me brother. I have finally found happiness." She said with shame thick in her voice.

Jon used his thumb and forefinger to lift her chin so her eyes reached his. "I do not judge you Sansa. I only want what's best for you. I want you treated well and happy. If an announcement in the morning will make you happy, then I shall deliver it." The shame left her eyes and gratitude took it's place. "Thank you." She said.

"Why the sudden engagement? Do you find yourself in a condition where you need to be married off quickly?" He asked, eyeing her middle.

"No!" She exclaimed, smacking her hand on his chest. "I am not with child. I just don't see the point in a long courtship and engagement. We are not planning to have a large wedding, only a small ceremony beneath the Godswood. I am no longer a maiden and he is not a young man anymore. There is no need to wait to start our lives together." She told him.

Nodding his head in agreement he said "I agree. Congratulations sister. When is the special day?" He asks. "Next week." She said.

"Very well then, get some rest. Tomorrow is a big day for you." He kissed her forehead and walked her to the door.

When Sansa returned to her room she found it empty. She had expected that but was still sad at his absence. Only a few more moons she reminded herself as she climbed under the thick furs on her bed and let sleep envelope her.


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Sansa is woken up after what seems like only moments after her head hitting the pillow by a loud banging at her door. Before she can even sit up a dark figure rushes inside and to her bedside. She screams, startled by her intruder. "Sansa, hush, you'll wake the entire castle." Jon whispers to her. Her heart beat slows as she realizes it is only her brother who's stormed into her room.

"What's going on?" She asked stifling a yawn.

"I just received a raven from The Wall. It's Bran, he alive and waiting for me at Castle Black." Jon had sat down on the edge of her bed. Sansa grabs his arm at his words to steady herself.

"Bran? He's still alive? Is he well?" She asked in a daze.

"The note was brief but he said he was alive and well and waiting for me. He said he had some big news to share with me but that it could only be spoken in person." Jon relayed.

"Are you sure it was from him?" She asked, worried that she was getting her hopes up. "Aye, I'm sure. It had his seal on the bottom and the writing was in his hand." Jon confirms.

"Give me a moment to get dressed and I will join you." She said as she started to rise from the bed.

"No Sansa, I need you to stay here. There must always be a Stark in Winterfell, remember?" He reminds her.

"Jon, I must go!" she pleaded. "He's our brother! I thought he was dead. All this time, he was alive!"

"Sansa, I know. I feel the same as you. The same shock. But I need you here. I need you rule in my absence. If something should happen to me while..." he is cut off by her hand over his mouth.

"Don't say it. You'll come back just as you are now, do you hear me?" she asks. "I've lost so much of my family already. Mother, father, Robb, Rickon... I just got you back and now Bran. I will not lose either of you. I just wish we knew of Arya. One way or the other." she trailed off.

"We'll find her, I have men out looking for her as we speak." he tells Sansa. This is news to her, but happy news. "I did not know that. I'm happy to hear that. Thank you Jon." she said. "She's my sister too." he says very quietly.

"I know, I just didn't think about sending men to search for her is all. I should have thought of that." She said, ashamed she hadn't thought to use whatever is at her disposal to find her little sister. She wouldn't be so little anymore though, would she?

"Don't fret Sansa. It doens't matter who thought of it, what matters is that we're looking and she'll be found soon. Alive and well." Jon reassured her.

"You're right. How long will you be gone?" She asked.

"I hope to be back within this moons cycle. A new one just started yesterday." He answered. "I'm sorry I won't be here to announce your engagement in the morning. You're free to do so in my absence."

Sansa hadn't even thought about the engagement. "It can wait until after you are home with our brother." She tells him.

"No, you should announce it. If you're going to be having him visit you," he says raising his eyebrows and giving her a pointed look "it'd be best if folks new that he was at least intending to marry you. I don't want your reputation ruined little sister. You can wait to marry him until we're back if you'd like though." He said.

She thinks on it for a moment "Alright, we'll still announce our engagement in a few hours, but I believe we will wait to have the wedding until you and Bran are home safely."

"Then it's settled. I best be on my way now. I've informed the guards to keep watch over you, so don't be alarmed if you notice a few men following you around. I don't want anyone getting any ideas while the King is gone." He says the last part in jest but she knows he's trying to look out for her. She doesn't protest even though she thinks the extra guards are not necessary. "Thank you Jon." She tells him and kisses his cheek. "Please be safe and send a raven once you've reached The Wall. I will worry until then." She said.

"Of course my Lady. As you wish." He teases, kissing her back on the forehead and stands to leave. "Ser Davos is staying behind at my request. If you need anything or have any problems, please see him. He is trustworthy and loyal to us." Sansa nods in response.

"Goodbye Jon."

"Goodbye Sansa." And with his final words he turns and leaves her chamber, closing the door behind him. She hears muffled voices outside the door and the clank of armor against the wall as a guard takes his place at her door.

She shakes her head and lays back down on her bed, a smile forming on her lips. He's alive! How he had managed to survive all these years, as a cripple no less, is beyond her. That doesn't matter though. What truly matters is that he is alive and coming home to Winterfell.

As the minutes tick by Sansa realizes that she will not find sleep so she gets up and puts on her robe. She walked out of her room and is startled by the kinght standing guard. She'd already forgotten about him. "I'm going to Lord Baelish's rooms." She said and walked down the hall towards her betrothed. Not giving one moments thought to what the kinght might think about her visiting the man at this hour in her nightclothes.

As she got to his door she raised her hand to knock but decided at the last moment to try the knob instead. She turned it and was happy to find it unlocked. She looked at the knight but the was not looking at her. He had already taken his place against the wall. Watching. Guarding. Sansa walked into the room and quietly closed the door. She found her future husband asleep in his bed. He was on one side, flat on his back, so she got in on the opposite side and curled up on his chest under the furs.

At first he did not budge, but when she wiggled a bit, trying to get comfortable against his body he stirred. Without opening his eyes he said "And to what do I owe this pleasure to my little wolf?"

"I'm sorry, I couldn't sleep." She was going to say more but wanted him to ask her about it first, making sure he was awake so she would't have to repeat herself in the morning. "Why couldn't you sleep my love? Did I not do a good job of wearing you out earlier? I must be a little rusty in my skills." He smiled, keeping his eyes closed.

"I spoke to Jon, he said he'd announce our engagement this morning before everyone..." She began, pausing for effect "only now he can't because he has just rode off to The Wall."

At this news Petyr opens his eyes and sits up, helping her do the same in the process. "Why did he leave at this hour? Is everything alright?" As the words left his mouth his eyes had finally adjusted to the dark and he could see a large grin on her face. "What's going on Sansa?" He asks.

"It's Bran. He's alive!" She says excitedly. Petyr's mind goes into overdrive. The young Stark is alive? He had heard whisperings that he was but nothing definitive. He was in awe of the cripple, staying alive all these years even with his disability and the Lannister's out to get him. He had heard that the boy may posses a gift. One that Petyr had never witnessed with his own eyes but had heard of from his girls in his brothels. They had told stories of men who were able to inhabit the minds of animals and know things that they couldn't possibly know. Seen things they weren't present to witness whether it be because it happened long ago or in another part of the Realm than where the man was entirely. Petyr knew at that moment that he would have to share his secret with Sansa if he wanted to be the first to tell her. He wanted to make sure he told her in a way that kept her loyal to him.

Their engagement was not yet public knowledge and even if it had been, she was not yet his wife and thus nothing was holding her to him permanately at this time. He had to think quick. "Are you sure it was him and not an imposter?" He asked.

"Yes, I'm sure. Jon said It was in his writing and had his seal on the bottom. My little brother is alive Petyr. Can you believe it?" She was very happy at the news he could tell. "Yes my sweet girl, I can believe it. You Starks are a strong bunch. What did his scroll say?" He asked her.

"It said that he was alive and well and that he had news for Jon but that it couldn't be trusted by raven and could only be spoken in person." She told him. Damn. He was right. Brandon Stark knew Jon's secret that even the bastard did not know himself. Well, he wasn't really a bastard now was he.

"Sansa dear, I need to talk with you. It is a very serious matter. I know that you are overjoyed at the news that your brother is alive, but I need your full attention." Sansa's mood sobered and he could tell that he had all her focus. He turned in the bed so that they were sitting cross legged facing each other. He grabbed her hands in his own and looked deep into her eyes. "You trust me, don't you?" He asked.

She did not answer at first then slowly nodded her head and said "I do." Where was he going with this? What was this serious matter? Sansa was getting very worried. She trusted him with her heart, but not her head, as she'd told Jon earlier. She knew he would not hurt her in any way, at least not intentionally. But she did not fully trust that he wouldn't lie to her. He squeezed her hands and she looked down at them. He brought one up to his lips and kissed her fingers. His eyes closed. He breathed in as he kissed her hand as if he was preparing himself for battle. He lowered their still joined hands and looked into her eyes. "One kiss, for courage?" He asked her, his famous smirk on his face. She granted his request and leaned forward and kissed him chastely. He really needed to get on with it before her mind got carried away with the different scenarios playing out in her head.

"I know something about your brother. Something not many, if any, other people know about. I am going to tell you everything and answer any questions you have but you need to know something before I tell you. Ok?" He asked. She nodded. "I want you to know that the reason no one else knows, and why I haven't told you before isn't because I wanted to deceive you. The reason for you, and everyone else being in the dark was to protect him. If anyone knew his secret, even himself, he would no longer be safe. He would have been killed long before he said his first words. Do you understand what I am telling you?" Petyr was nervous, a rare feeling for him usually but it was becoming a common occurrence around his little love.

Beginning to grow annoyed with his slow pace at telling her this big secret she frustratingly told him "Yes yes, I understand. No one could know or he would have been killed. Now get on with it. What do you know about my brother? What do you know about Bran?"

"Oh no darling, this is not about Bran. It is about your other surviving brother, Jon Snow. Only he's not really a Snow." Now it was Petyr's turn to go for the dramatic flair.

"Wait... What? About Jon? Not a Snow? I don't follow." She said confused.

"Jon is not a Snow, Sansa. He is not a bastard. His parents were married and in love. They did not have long together before his father was killed and his mother died in childbirth. She had one request on her death bed; that your father take her son and raise him as his bastard to protect him. So no one knew his true name and his true parentage." He stopped to let all of it sink in.

"Why would father lie for her? Why would he lie to mother, to all of us, just to protect an infant he did not know? Father would only abandon his honor for one reason, his family. And sometimes not even then. But raising Jon as his bastard did nothing but hurt our family." He could see the wheels turning in her head. She was getting close to the answer. "Mother was his only living family at the time, why would he..." She stopped mid sentence. She had finally figured it out. Petyr smiled with pride at how quickly she came to the conclusion on her own.

Sansa sat there in shock. No. It couldn't be. Jon's mother couldn't be... She thought back to a few months ago when her and Petyr had been down in the crypts. They had discussed her aunt Lyanna and Prince Rheagar. How he had favored her over his wife, Elia Martell, at the tournament, placing a crown of winter roses on her lap. He had chosen her. He had chosen Lyanna, kidnapped and raped her. And, apparently, fathered a child with her.

"But wait, you said his parents were married. I thought he- I thought Rheagar had kidnapped my aunt Lyanna and raped her. He forced her to marry him as well?" She was a smart one, his little pawn. He was proud of her in that moment. But she was still naive in some ways of the world.

"My dear, the Targaryen's were known for taking more than one wife. Lyanna was not kidnapped. She ran away with him." Petyr watched her process this. She looked all around the room, not seeing a thing but whatever was playing in her mind.

"What does this mean?" She asks, still looking around confused and overwhelmed.

"I believe you know what this means my love. Jon is not your bastard half brother. Jon is a Targaryen. Your cousin." She looked up into his eyes, finally seeing clarity in them.

"How could you not have told him!" She yelled, shaking his hands out of hers and she started to get up from the bed. "How could you keep this secret? It tore at my mother. I thought you loved her? Yet she died thinking the one she loved betrayed her. Oh, I get it now. That is why you kept this secret. You wanted my father's reputation forever tarnished in her eyes, is that it?" She was pacing the room.

Petyr stood up to stop her and grabbed her arms and forced her to look in his eyes. "I told you why I kept it secret. It pained me to keep the truth from your mother. Honestly I expected your father to come clean to her one day. But he didn't. It wasn't my secret to tell anyway. And I told you Sansa, I couldn't say anything without risking his life. Would you rather I have told Cat and Jon and and just prayed to the Gods that no one else discovered his true parentage and killed him?" He asked her, daring her to contradict his reasonings. With his last sentence she seemed to calm a bit.

Sansa was still reeling from the discovery. She had calmed down a bit and realized that Petyr was right. It had been best for Jon that he kept his mouth shut as he had all these years. That didn't mean she had to like it though. She grew light headed from lack of sleep and overwhelming emotions and swayed on her feet. Petyr instantly bent down and swept her off her feet and carried her to the bed. He came around the other side, as she had done minutes before, and laid next to her, holding her back to his chest.

"I'm sorry for the onslaught of information so soon after you heard of your brothers wellbeing. I wanted you to hear the truth from no one else. To understand why I couldn't tell you before." She nodded her head in acknowledgement and pulled his arms tighter around her. "Things will change now Sansa. You do realize that don't you?" He asked her.

"How will they change?" She asked.

"The people in the North do not stand behind Targaryen's. Aerys murdered your uncles and as result joined Robert's Rebellion, backing the Baratheon's. Rheagar running off with Lyanna did not help matters. This is what I was trying to convey to you in the library. That you and you alone are the one true heir to Winterfell. The North is yours Sansa. Once word spreads that Jon is not a Stark, but a Targaryen, there could be an uprising."

"But Jon is a Stark. Lyanna is a Stark." She argues.

"You know as well as I that the North remembers. They remember what happened all those years ago. They are still suffering the repercussions of the Targaryen's actions. We cannot say truthfully how they will react. If they will still support Jon or if they will look to you. You need to decide what you are going to do once he comes home knowing everything. Will you stand behind your cousin, or will you stand up for your people?" With that Petyr stopped talking. He kissed the back of her head and laid back down on the pillow. He knew he would need to give her time to think things through. She makes better choices when given the space to sort through her own mind.

Sansa laid there in Petyr's arms contemplating everything he had said. She felt both safe and completely alone all at the same time. Jon was her brother. Her cousin, but raised as her brother. Could she fault him for something in which he did not know? No, she could not. He had grown up a Stark and a Stark alone. Though Targaryen blood ran through his veins, he did not act like one. He was humble and honorable like their father. No, his uncle. He wasn't a cruel man. Or a mad man. Wouldn't the North recognize that? Wouldn't they still stand behind the man they had only days ago pledged themselves to all while naming him King in the North? A title he had never wanted in the first place. Surely they wouldn't hold what people he never even knew did against him. Would they?

If they did, what would she do? She'd already lost her mother, father, two brothers, and possibly her sister. Was she willing to abandon one of her two surviving brothers for the people of the North? Would they even accept her, her being a girl and all? She was still unmarried. If she was to have a chance at going up against Jon, if it came down to that, she would fair better if she was married to Petyr first. He was Lord of the Vale and had more men in his army than Jon had left in his.

Her mind was over worked and under rested. Sansa closed her eyes and let sleep take her just as the first light of morning shone through the window. She hoped, as her last coherent thoughts crossed her mind, that clairity would find her once she had some rest.


	10. Chapter 9

**A/N: I don't normally update so often but this story just keeps coming to me. I appreciate all the follows and reviews! Thank y'all so much! Enjoy!**

Chapter 9

Sansa woke and realized that everything that had happened last night was not a dream. She was still in Petyr's bed, though she was alone. She looked around for him and found him at his desk writing something.

"Petyr." She said, not really having anything to say to him in particular.

"Yes my love? Are you well rested now?" He asked, setting down his quill. She nodded in response, looking a little lost. He rose from behind his desk and went to sit beside her on the bed. "I've just had my man call on your handmaiden to fetch you a dress and whatever else you need to ready yourself for the day. It is nearing the twelfth hour of the day, I thought we might have our meal in the hall with everyone. Maybe make our announcement?" He suggested, raising an eyebrow and cocking his head to the side. "I have sworn the servants to secrecy regarding your sleeping arrangements last night. But I fear that we can't continue on like this without our engagement made public without starting rumors. I have grown rather fond of you falling asleep in my arms and I wish to continue doing so, if you'll allow it of course. Even before we are married. But we should tell everyone first."

"Yes. I agree. We should tell everyone at noon." She smiled up at him. He could see that her eyes were not clear, and though she meant what she said she still had a lot on her mind. He leaned down to kiss her and her eyes fluttered closed. She sighed into his lips and reached her arms up to wrap them around her neck.

Sansa melted into his kiss. Her mind was so full of emotions and thoughts and confusions that she needed his distraction to give her a moments peace. She let her tongue reach out to his bottom lip and she traced it tentivly. Quickly, he bit her bottom lip, pulling it ever so gently before letting his tongue dive into her mouth seeking out her own. He dragged her to sit in his lap with her legs off to one side of him as if she were riding side saddle. His arms wrapped around her, but did not roam. This was a passionate kiss, but not one that was meant to lead any further. They sought out each other only as a momentarily reprieve from everything that was beginning to happen.

A knock on the door did not stop their sweet kisses. The door opened and Petyr motioned his hand for the girl carrying Sansa's belongings to come in. A little surprised that Sansa didn't turn from him the moment they heard the knock, he kissed her deeply once more before letting her go. She must have needed his touch as much as he hers and who was he to deny his lovely bride to be what she most needed?

They rested their foreheads against each other and he asked her "Feeling a little better my love?" She smiled and replied "Yes, a little at least." She leaned back to look into his eyes and kissed the tip of his nose.

While still looking into his eyes she said "Ingrid. Lord Baelish and I have some news." Still smiling at him she continued "Petyr and I are announcing our engagement at middays meal today." She turned to look at Ingrid as she finished "So you must make me look my best."

"Yes my Lady. Congratulations Lady Stark, Lord Baelish. A fine match you two make." Ingrid blushed, not use to speaking so much in front of Lord Baelish. He smirked at her and she blushed even redder. He was a handsome man, but she knew any affections he gave anyone besides her Lady were all a farse. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that he was in love with Lady Sansa. She imagined that even Lord Baelish himself was unaware of how his mask fell when he stared at her for too long.

"Alright now love, up you go." Petyr said as he helped Sansa to her feet. "You've got some dressing to do and I have a letter to finish." He was writing to Varys. He had not heard from his friend in a while and he assumed he was nearing Kings Landing. Petyr knew he was sailing in with the Dragon Queen from Meereen.

Ingrid paused, unsure how to proceed. She knew Lady Stark was very self conscious about her scars. But she imagined that if Sansa had been laying with Lord Baelish for a few nights now then surely he had seen them. Lady Sansa inturrupted her thoughts "Ingrid, will you not help me undress?" She asked expectantly. Ingrid hurried to her Lady and began the process of disrobing her from her night shift and helping her dress into her day clothes.

A short time later Sansa was dressed and her hair was finished into a simple braid pulled over her shoulder, a few tendrils loose around her face to frame it. Petyr stood up and took in the sight of his beautiful little pawn. She glowed in a deep plum gown that was beautiful yet simple. She looked stunning. Petyr walked towards her rubbing his hands together in front of him. "My dear, you look radiant. Shall we go share the good news?" He asked, holding out his elbow for her to take. "We shall." She smiled at him, taking his arm.

They walked into the hall as everyone was still getting settled. The bowls of stew and bread were almost finished being served. Petyr paused, unsure of where to escort his Lady. He usually sat with the other Lords and her at the head table alone with Jon. Sansa gently tugged on his arm, leading him towards the head table, smiling up at him for encouragement. He smiled back down at her. He noticed that most of the heads had turned and were watching them as they made their way to the front of the hall. Petyr quite enjoyed this attention. In a moments time everyone in the hall and soon the entire castle would know that the fiery Direwolf on his arm was to be his in name and in spirit.

All the Lords and Ladies and servants and some of the more civilized Wildlings already treated him with the utmost respect. But once his engagement to Sansa was made public he knew there'd be a change in how they greeted him, and talked with him. With more regard to his titles than the familiar way they conversed with him now. As they reached their seats, he held out Sansa's but she did not move to take her seat. He, too, stayed standing next to her. Quietly two servants placed food in front of their chairs, ready whenever they were.

Sansa took her arm out of his and grabbed his hand instead. She smiled over at him then turned back to the hall and all the eyes that were already focused on them. "My Lords, my Ladies, as I am sure you are all aware at this time my brother has gone to The Wall to bring home our little brother Bran." She paused, everyone having broken out in cheer and applause. She looked to Petyr giving him a small nod, keeping secret the knowledge she was taught earlier this morning. "Jon was to be the one to make the announcement this morning, but seeing as he is not here, it is left to me. Lord Baelish and I are engaged." Again, more cheering and applause and a few improper comments were made. Sansa blushed at the attention and Petyr squeezed her hand in comfort.

As Sansa began to take her seat Lady Mormont stood and began to speak. "Lord Baelish, Lady Stark. Congratulations. You two make an exceptional pair. May your love grow strong through the years, and may you be blessed with many sons to carry out your legacy. Cheers." She finished, raising her chalice to the couple. The room echoed her sentiment and clanked glasses before drinking deeply.

Throughly embarrassed and a bright shade of red covering her features, Sansa finally took her seat next to Petyr. They ate in silence for a while before Petyr finally spoke. "That went rather well."

"Did you expect an uproar?" She smirked at him.

"No, however I wouldn't have been surprised if there had been some protests. You are a beautiful woman, Sansa. A beauty with power is a very desirable combination. I have no doubt that a few hearts will be broken by the news of our engagement." Sansa swatted at his arm. "You old fool, there are no other suitors but yourself. And lucky for you, you are the only one who inhabits my heart." She teased.

"I think you'd be surprised at how many men would love the honor of being your husband." He counters.

"I'm sure there are some out there who would love my name attached to theirs, but no others have affections towards me as you, my Lord." She flirted with her betrothed.

He repeated, "You'd be surprised, my little wolf." And left it at that. He did not need to encourage her to go off looking elsewhere for another younger, more handsome man to take as her husband.

Once they had finished their meal Sansa looked to Petyr. "Would you mind escorting me on a walk through the Godswood? I would like to have some time alone with you to think and discuss matters. Unless you have meetings to attend?" She asked.

"No my love, I am all yours for the day. I would love the pleasure to escort you wherever your heart so desires." He pushed back from the table and stood. He pulled her chair back and helped her to her feet, taking her hand in his and securing it through his bended elbow. They walked out of the hall and through the main grounds. Jon's guards followed them through the gates of Winterfell and were about to follow them to the woods before Sansa turned to them.

"You may stand guard here. I wish to have some privacy with Lord Baelish to discuss a sensitive matter." She ordered, giving no room for argument. They nodded and responded with a "Yes, my Lady" and stood guard just outside the line of trees.

"Are you warm enough Sansa?" Petyr asked her, noticing her cheeks were pink.

"Yes, I am plenty warm with you by my side. I rather enjoy the cold air. I am a Lady of the North, if you remember." She teased. He rather enjoyed this playful side of Sansa. So often she was serious and did not smile. He loved seeing her carefree and smiling as she was. If only briefly.

"I have given some thought to our discussions earlier this morning, Petyr." She said, continuing to walk and look ahead of her. "I told Jon before he left that I would wait for his return before I married you, but I am wondering now if that is the wisest decision."

Petyr's heart skipped a beat and the thought of still marrying her sooner rather than later. He had assumed that with the changes she would want to postpone the ceremony. He was growing more and more attached to the little wolf than he had realized. Of course he loved her, but he had always been able to keep the matters of his head and his heart separate. With her he was finding it increasingly difficult. The things he had desired since his youth were slowly becoming less and less important.

"Why the possible change of heart, my little love?" He asked, intrigued.

"Well, I was thinking through all the scenarios, like you mentioned." She was whispering at this point and he stopped her, looked around to ensure their isolation, and nodded at her to continue. "I will not go against my brother. Cousin. Jon. I will not attempt to dethrone Jon. I will support him as long as the people of the North support him. I do not wish to be Queen in the North. However, if there is discontent in the lands I will stand up for my people. I will ask Jon to step down honorably. And if he does, then that will be that. If he chooses to fight me on the matter, I will need men. I currently do not have men." She says.

"And I do." Petyr says. He likes how her mind is working. She is thinking through all possible outcomes. Clearly thinking through all the scenarios and devising a plan that coincides with each one. He reaches out to cup her cheek and gives her a brief kiss. "I must say my dear, I am proud of you. You are turning into a strong and cunning woman. It suits you well. However, my pride does find me a little worried at the notion that you are now only marrying me for my Kinghts." Be vulnerable he chants to himself. He must continue to show her how she has effected him, even if it shows his weakness. Even if it let's her past all the walls he's so carefully constructed his entire life.

At his words Sansa reaches up to cup his cheek as he had done to her and tells him "You silly man, don't you know by now how much I love you? After all I've been through these past years there's only been one ally I could depend on to keep me safe as best he can. Only one man I can trust to put me before himself. Only one constant in my life. That man is you Petyr Baelish. I am happy the day is near that I will become Sansa Baelish." And with that she kisses him, only not quite as modestly as he had. She kissed him with a passion that always seemed to find them in the woods.

"I do like the sound of your soon to be name on your lips." He breaths against her lips in between kisses. "I want to hear it again."

"Sansa Baelish." She whispers, tongue running across his lips. "Wife of Petyr Baelish." She continues. With each word he holds her tighter to his body. "Lady Baelish.." She is cut off as he backs her against a tree and loses himself in her kisses. Giving her his essence and taking hers in return.

She put her hands on his chest and applied pressure, urging him to stop. "Petyr, we must stop. If you continue this way I shall allow you to take me right her up against this tree." She pleads. Her head is spinning with want and desire. And not just for Petyr. The thought of having an entire army at her beckon call is exhilarating.

"That doesn't sound like a bad idea to me, my Lady." He says with a voice rough with desire. His hands travel up her body to her breasts and he grabs ahold of them tightly, leaning forward to take the flesh along her neck in his teeth, kissing and nibbling his way down her neck. She moans in response. This man knew how to play her like a piano. She arched her body into his hands and held his head to her neck, wanting more. She opened her eyes and looked above her in the trees and noticed a crow watching them. While Petyr and his mouth were roaming over her body she cocked her head to the side while still looking up to get a better look at this crow that seemed to be staring at them very intently. The bird cocked its head as she had and she pushed against Petyr, still looking at the bird "Stop. Stop." She said though not in a rude manner. He immediately stopped and followed her gaze to the bird in the tree.

The bird flew down to a lower branch to get closer to them and continued to stare. "It's as though he knows us and is aware of what we're doing." She says mystified.

Petyr immediately thought of Bran and the warging. This bird was entirely too curious to be just an ordinary bird. "Hello little wolf." Petyr said to the crow. The crow looked at him, squawked, then flew away.

"Little wolf?" Sansa asked, confused. "Are you mad? That was a crow."

"No my dear, that was no crow. That was your brother, Bran."


	11. Chapter 10

**A/N: So, I don't really plan out my stories. I don't usually have an endgame in mind when I start and just let the story lead me where it wants to go. I had no idea when I sent them to the Godswood that Bran would pay them a visit. But it fit perfectly... Especially since they were semi conspiring against Jon. I'm just as excited to see where this goes as those of you who are following this are!**

 **Thank you everyone for your kind reviews! I PM everyone I can, and for those who write one as a guest, I read what you write and it is an inspiration to continue. Good and bad. Though no one has said anything negative... Yet! Lol**

 **Also, I am having trouble setting a break in the chapters for different sections. I type them up and they are there before I submit the chapter. But disappear when I post it to the story. IDK what I'm doing wrong. So I apologize when it harshly goes from Sansa doing one thing to Petyr doing another in another part of Winterfell or wherever. I do attempt to make it more obvious. Oh well, y'all are a smart bunch. You can figure it out quickly. ;) This chapter is kind of fluffy. I still hope y'all enjoy it! Let me know what you think!**

Chapter 10

Petyr and Sansa sat on a log deep inside the woods. He reached for her hands folded nicely in her lap. "My dear, are you alright?" He asks, placing one of her hands in both of his. "I guess I just never truly thought that all of Old Nan's tales were true. The White Walkers, dragons, warging. They aren't just fairy tales, they're all real." She says astonished.

"What do you think he heard? Can he understand us when he's in an animal like that? Does he understand our words?" She asks.

"From what I've gathered over the years, yes he can. He can understand everything he hears while inside an animals mind. That and he can control the animal as well." Petyr tells her.

"But then he could have heard us!" She exclaims. "He could have heard me telling you my plans. Plans that include Jon. Possibly going against him!" Panic rose in her voice and she started to panic. "What will we do Petyr?" She questioned him, her eyes frantic as they looked into his.

He thought for a moment before he spoke. "My love, it will all be ok. We don't know how long he was there. And if he happened to hear everything we said, there's not much we can do about it until Jon returns with Bran. There's no telling if he'll actually tell Jon. And you didn't threaten him. You said specifically that your would not dethrone him. It will be ok little wolf. Have some patience. Ok?" He said trying to calm her nerves.

Sansa took a steadying breath. He was right. There was no need to get all worked up over something she could not control at this time. If there was even anything to control. She wanted some time alone to think about everything so she told Petyr "I am getting a chill. Do you mind if we head inside? I'd like to bathe and pick out something warm to wear to bed before I come back to your chambers this evening. That is, if you'll still have me." She says batting her eyelashes at him. Flirting with her betrothed.

"Of course my love, I meant it when I said that I would enjoy having you in my bed every night from here on out. Let us go back inside. You can see to your matters and I can attend to a few I have of my own." He said standing and offering her his elbow. She took it and let him lead her back with in the gates. She leaned over to kiss him on the cheek before parting ways for a few hours. "I will meet you in the hall for supper my Lord?" She asks. He bows and grabs her hand to kiss it and says "That would be most pleasant my Lady." And he watches her as she turns and heads to her chambers.

Once alone in her room she lays back on her bed and closes her eyes thinking through everything. This week has been so full of twists and turns. She wished everything would slow down a bit so she could catch her breath. The battle, Ramsay's death, her and Petyr, Jon being King, Bran being alive, Jon being her cousin... It was all so much and in such a short time. Jon wouldn't be home for a few weeks so hopefully she could take the time to steady her feet on the ground. Only she was getting married, maybe. Well, she was. The maybe part was on how soon it would be happening. But the more she considered it, the more she agreed with her thinking that it would be most prudent if she were to marry Petyr before Jon returned.

There was a knock at her door. "Come in." She called.

"My lady, I heard you were back in your chambers. Is there anything I can do for you?" Ingrid asked.

"Yes, I'd like to take a bath and wash my hair. Also, while I bathe would you mind setting out a proper night gown and dress for tonight. I'll wear whatever you choose for me for dinner tomorrow as well. I'll be staying the night with Petyr again. Probably every night from here on out actually. But I think I will have him move into my chambers, seeing as they are the largest in Winterfell." She said.

"Yes my Lady." Ingrid curtsied and left to retrieve water for her bath.

Petyr watched Sansa as she walked inside the castle. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a tiny flower he had found by the log he and Sansa had been sitting on. It was small, no bigger than a fingernail. But it was winter after all. It's not as if there were fields of blooms outside the castle walls. He made his way to the kitchen and immediately found his little bird. She blushed at the sight of him.

"Hello little bird." He purred at her. "How are you this evening?" He asked her, leaning on the counter with his right elbow to appear more approachable.

Nervously she replied "I am well my Lord." She turned redder still. "Congratulations." She murmured. He could sense the jealous tone behind her words. Good. Jealously he could work with.

"Thank you my dear." He chose not to elaborate, not wanting to break the bond he was only beginning to form with this new little pawn. He smiled sweetly up at her and she soon forgot her jealousies. He reached forward, lightly rubbing the fabric of her long sleeve between his thumb and forefinger but only briefly before looking into her eyes. "If you knew anything, heard anything, that you thought would be to my benefit knowing, you'd tell me wouldn't you, little bird?" He asked, leaning in closer still.

Her mouth fell open and she was momentarily at a loss for words. She was young and had not yet received any attention from a man. Yet here was one of the highest ranking men in the entire North and he as flirting with her. She knew he was betrothed to Lady Sansa and she knew they were intimate. Most of the castle knew by now. They were not very quiet. She wondered how it would feel to have his hands on her. To have him make those noises come out of her instead. He leaned his head forward a fraction more, raising his eyebrows. He was expecting an answer. What was the question again? Oh, right. "Of course my Lord, I would tell you anything you wanted to know." She promised.

He smiled at her, "Good. I am glad to hear it. Until that time comes, would you mind bringing a few of those delicious lemon cakes you made to my chambers later this evening? Lady Sansa does love them." He said. He did not want her thinking he'd abandon his faithfulness towards his Lady so easily. Best to keep her guessing. Her face fell at his request. She was obviously displeased to be reminded he was already promised to another.

"Yes my Lord. I'll have them brought up as soon as I make them." She said, her eyes downcast.

Using his index finger he tilts her chin up to look into his eyes. "I would prefer if you brought them yourself." He said and turned her hand upward, placing the small flower in her palm. "For all your trouble little bird." He says and gently closes her fingers over the flower. He then turns and walks out of the kitchen without a backwards glance. She was back on the hook. He smirked to himself. Sometimes he even impressed himself. He shook his head in mock regret though, for he knew that by the time the little wench came to his chambers Sansa would already be there, and hopefully in a state of undress. He did love toying with his little birds.

Petyr went back to his chambers to read any scrolls that may have come in for him and found nothing of much importance waiting for him. He bathed and changed into one of his more simple outfits. He still wore his overcoat and nice pants and high necked undershirt. This one was just void of any fancy stitching. Solid black. He pinned his personal sigil and favorite pin, the Mockingbird pin, at his collar like he always did. After seeing that he was dressed and hair was impeccable he headed out to meet his Lady Love in the hall.

Sansa had left her hair down after her bath, not pinning or braiding a single strand. Long loose waves rippled down her back. Petyr thought she glowed as she stood in the middle of the room in a simple but very flattering emerald green gown. She was laughing and talking with Ser Davos and Lady Mormont. He stood back by the door and watched for a moment. She was in her element. Jon did well enough while conversing with the people he ruled over, but he was more suited to brooding in a corner or talking of battles and the such with a bone cup of ale in his and and surrounded by fellow Kinghts of the Watch and Free Folk. He didn't take to being King as easily as Sansa would to being Queen. As he's noted many times before, she was made for being Queen. Bred and raised to rule. Not only was she appealing to the eye but she was charismatic and charming. And she had a knack for politics. Years in Kings Landing and being by his side had taught her many useful things.

He walked towards his bride to be and everyone stopped talking as he bowed to her and reached for her hand. She blushed as she gave it to him and he kissed her fingers. "You look ravishing my love." He said to her.

"Oh, keep it in your pants." A passing Wildling mocked. Sansa playful smacked his arm and teased "Lord Baelish, your words do fluster me."

"My apologies Lady Stark. That was not my intention, in public anyway. In private however..." He trailed off, raising one eyebrow. Playing the game with her. She let her head fall back and she laughed loudly and wholeheartedly. It was the most exquisite sound he had ever heard. He couldn't recall her laughing so genuinely ever before. He promised himself right there that he would make more of an effort to recreate that sincere feeling of joy in his Lady as often as he possibly could. She turned and walked towards her seat at the head table. When he didn't follow, as he was still mesmorized by her beauty, frozen in place, she turned and asked him "Are you joining me my love?" That was the first time she had ever called him that. And she did it in public no less. Many ears heard the term of endearment. If she didn't watch her haughtiness she would soon find herself bent over the table for all to see.

After supper they went back to his chambers and found her things already set up at the chair by his desk. He smiled at the dress, happy that she was already so comfortable with him. Things surely had changed in a short amount of time Petyr mused to himself. He wouldn't change a thing that had happened, but it was rather quickly, even for him.

Sansa sat on the edge of the bed and laid back, staring up at the canopy. "I am so full." She said, rubbing her stomach. She had eaten more than he had ever seen her eat in one sitting. She was underweight after months of torture and poor diet while living with the bastard Bolton, he was glad to see her finally putting on a little weight. She could stand to gain about 15 pounds while still maintaining her figure.

"Petyr." Sansa called as she stayed starring up above her. "Yes my love." He replied as he was taking off his garments. "I was thinking, my chambers are larger than yours. Than anyone's really. When we marry you should move into mine, instead of me in yours." She said. "That sounds like a fine plan." He answered. Good, she thought to herself. One down, one to go.

"Petyr darling, I have one more thing I'd like to discuss with you. If you're up for it." She said sitting up. He looked to her face to try and gauge how serious a matter it may be. She didn't look too grave, so his shoulders eased with relief. "Of course Sansa, what would you like to speak about? But let me help you out of that dress as we speak. No need to keep you uncomfortable for longer than is necessary."

She nodded and walked to him, turning around and moving her hair over her shoulder so he could have acces to the buttons at her back. As his fingers worked on her dress she started speaking "I would like to get married soon. I was thinking in two days time. I wanted it to be official before Jon reaches Castle Black. Just in case." She whispered the last part mostly to herself, but he had heard her.

He eased the dress off her shoulders and down her body. After she'd stepped out of it he draped it over the chair and reached for her wool night shift. She had taken off her underdress and placed in on top of her gown. "It is hard to tell a beautiful naked woman no on any matter." He praised, his eyes lazily roaming over her body. He held out the night shift and helped her into it. The fire needed to be stoked and the room was rather cold. He'd have her dressed now, and not once they were under the furs in a little while.

"Did you want to move up the date because of the crow?" He asked her finally.

"You mean Bran?" She asked, cocking an eyebrow. "Yes my love, I mean Bran." He replied.

She looked down shyly and said "You don't think me a coward do you? For wanting to be married first, just in case he heard what I said and tells Jon?" She was worried he would think her a silly girl again, like he had before he'd married her to Ramsay.

He walked to her and wraped her in his arms. "No my love," he consoled her. "You are the bravest woman I know. I could never think of you as a coward. Wanting to be married before Jon reaches the Wall is a smart move. A great political one. And one good for your heart. We must not forget about your heart my little wolf. You are thinking of your well being and protecting yourself against all outcomes. That is what a smart Queen does." He says. There's a knock at the door. Ahhh, right on time. "Wait here my Lady, I have a surprise for you."

Petyr walked to the door and opened it only half way, leaving Sansa hidden. There before him stood the little pawn. She had washed her face and combed her hair. And by the looks of it she had also changed into a clean apron. Internally he shook his head at the young servant. She was a pathetic little one. "Hello." He said, nodding his head to her.

"I- I brought you the lemon cakes my Lord." She stuttered and flushed deeply. When she looked down at the small basket in her hands he rolled his eyes. And right on que his lovely Lady walked to the door and opened it further. "Did I hear lemon cakes?" She asked excitedly and clapped her hands when she saw the basket in the girls hands. "Oh Petyr, did you have these brought up for me? You simply are the best." She was bouncing with excitement as she leaned up to kiss him on his cheek. "Thank you my love." She said to him and reached out for the basket. The kitchen servant barely raised her eyes to Sansa as she handed her the cakes. "Here you are my Lady." She curtsied and relinquished her offerings.

Sansa turned and practically skipped back into the room. Petyr went to close the door but leaned his head out and called after the poor girl. "Little bird." He waited until she turned around. "You have made my betrothed very happy. I shall owe you for that." And with that he closed the door and returned to Sansa.

The girl was so confused. She could never tell where she stood with the Lord. She thought herself foolish whenever she thought he might fancy her and was put in her place every time he brought up Lady Stark. But then, he always made a point to say something discretely to her. Her young mind didn't know what to think of it all. She walked back down to the kitchen with unattainable fantasies of Lord Baelish doting on her, loving her, making love to her.

Once the door was closed and barred he said to Sansa "I thought you were full my dear?"

"One is never too full for lemon cakes." She replied, mouth full of cake. He laughed and kissed a crumb off her chin. Then one off her lips.

An hour later Sansa laid on top of Petyr's bare chest running her fingers through the fine hairs on his chest. They too were peppered with gray in with the black, like his temples. "I had never thought to do things like that with food before." He felt her smile on his skin. Gently running his hand up and down her spine he told her "Oh darling, there's a quite many things I have still to teach you about the art of love making. Good thing we have a lifetime together to do so." He kissed the top of her head and they both quickly fell asleep.

Sansa dreamed of hundreds of black crows flying all around her. Following her every move. Listening to her every word. No where was safe.


	12. Chapter 11

A/N: This will be another happy chapter. The drama will return but I think our two little love birds have earned a happy chapter or two.

Chapter 11

Ingrid was putting the final touches on Sansa's hair as she stood before her mirror. She wore a cream colored gown with green and gray stitching. It was in homage to House Stark. It had been the dress her mother wore when she had married her father. She wanted apart of them at her wedding since they would not be there in person. She gingerly ran her hands down her front, smoothing her skirts. "It is finished." Ingrid said. Taking a deep breath Sansa looked up into the mirror to see the finished product. A smile grew on her lips as she took in the sight. Her hair was braided in two sections down her back with the bottom half of her hair falling straight and full to her lower back. There were pins with little colored jewels fastened into her braids, making them sparkle in the sunlight. Even Sansa couldn't deny that she looked beautiful. She smiled as she imagined that her mother had helped her dress for this day, instead of Ingrid. She tried to imagine the advice Catelyn would be giving her before she walked down to the Heart Tree to become Lord Baelish's wife. "Don't be shy my dear, from this day forward he will have sworn to protect you. Honor him and always be by his side. In front of others and alone in your bedchamber. Join him in the marriage bed as often as he likes. It will hurt at first, but only a time or two. If he is a truly kind and caring man he will see to your pleasure as well as his own. You will bear children that you will love more than anything and one day you will talk with your daughter as I am with you now." Her eyes mist as she tries to picture her mother saying these things to her, hating the men that took her away from her. Though she wondered if her mother's advice would be slightly different considering the man she was marrying.

"My Lady, is everything ok?" Ingrid asks timidly.

"Yes, I just wish my parents and siblings were here." She says as she quickly wipes a stray tear from her cheek. Ingrid just nods in understanding. No words would comfort her and ease the feeling of loss that she has.

There was a knock at the door. Ingrid walked to the door and said "Ser Davos." She looked to Sansa for further instruction. "Let him in." Sansa commands. "Please go and fetch me some water to drink Ingrid." She says, dismissing her handmaiden.

Ser Davos closed the door behind Ingrid and turned to face Sansa. "You look magnificent my Lady. The dress is most becoming on you." He compliments her.

"Thank you, Ser Davos. It was my mothers dress that she wore when her and father were married." She says looking back at her reflection.

Ser Davos walked a few paces closer to the radiant bride and fumbled with how to word his concerns. Sensing his issue Sansa turned to him fully and neatly folded her hands in front of her. "I assume you came here for more than just to pay me a compliment." She speculates aloud.

"Aye, that I did my Lady. I wanted to say.. Well, that is I came here for... I question..." He stuttered then ceased talking all together. Sansa grew rather annoyed.

"Well? What did you want? I am a bit busy at this time." She says.

"Yes, my Lady. I only meant to ask a question. Please, take no offense at my forwardness. I only meant to inquire about the timing of your marriage." He is visibly uncomfortable. Sansa sighs, not wishing to add to his embarrassment further she says simply, "It is a bit fast, I know. But it is what I want. I see no need in waiting on formalities. I have been wed two times before. This need not be a large affair."

"Yes, my Lady. I understand. My questioning wasn't so much that it is fast, but rather why you do not wait for your brother's return. Surely you would prefer their presence to witness the union." He implores, angling his head towards her.

Sansa falters. Does he know more than he lets on? She keeps her face composed as her mind reels. "I-" she doesn't know how to continue. How much should she tell him? Jon said she could trust the Onion Knight, but he did not know everything she now knew. She finds her words "I would prefer them to be here, that is true. But everything is in chaos right now. There is a battle about to happen in the South if everything the ravens relay is true. And the greatest war in memory is almost upon us. I find myself not feeling entirely safe. I am now a widow and a Stark. I can be used as a pawn in anyone's Game. My fears would be greatly reduced with the safety of Lord Baelish's name attached to me. And with him by my side and his Knights as well, I hope I will feel safer still." She watches him as he processes everything she has said. She can tell he is not fully satisfied by her response.

"Lady Stark, I will ask you one more question but I beg that you take no offense to it. Jon is not here and I feel the question should be asked in his absence as I believe he would do it himself were he present." He sets the stage for his inquiry. She nods her head, encouraging him to continue. "Is this truly your hearts desire? To marry Lord Baelish. Or are you being forced into matrimony to ensure your safety?" He asks. He is sincerely worried that she is not making decisions solely out of her hearts desire, but is being played and feels she has no other choice.

Sansa takes a step forward and places her hand on his arm. She smiles sweetly at him and answers him "Ser Davos, you are a true and caring man. I appreciate your concerns for my happiness. Please be assured that I am marrying of my own free will and am happy to do so. Petyr is not forcing me or giving me any ultimatums. He has been honorable and steadfast in his affections towards me. I know of his past. I know what he is capable of. I am no fool. But I have also learned him in a way most have not. Perhaps no one else. I can sense when he is being dishonest. I can hear a lie of his tongue easier than any other. He is honest in his feelings towards me and his promise to be a faithful and devoted husband. He loves me, as I am. Broken and all. Not because of who I am, what my name is. But because of what I am inside." She leans up and gives him a chaste kiss on the cheek. "I am grateful for your care of my well being. Thank you." And with that she steps back.

He bows slightly and says "Very well, my Lady. May I escort you to the Heart Tree?"

"Actually Ser Davos. I have a question I would like to ask you in return. If you don't mind."

"Of course my Lady, anything." He replies.

"Since my father is no longer and Jon is not present and Petyr has no other living relatives, would you be willing to perform the wedding yourself?" She looks to him, face full of innocence.

Davos Seaworth is taken aback. This was not the request he was expecting from her. Having lost his son in the Battle of the Blackwater, performing a wedding was never something he thought he'd get the chance to do. "Of course my Lady. The honor would be great to perform this service for you and the Lord." He says graciously.

"The sun has fully set, I believe it is time for us to head to the Godswood. I imagine there is a man waiting for me under a sacred tree." She says lightly, hoping to coax a genuine smile out of the Knight. She is rewarded with a smile and a slight blush from the elder man. "I do believe you are correct." He holds his arm out for her to tuck hers into the crook of his elbow and leads them out of her chambers and into the hall.

They exchange light conversation as they head out past the walls of Winterfell into the forest. After a time they reach the place near the Heart Tree. Sansa is surprised at what she sees and stops in her tracks. There are many guests in attendance, all holding torches, giving the area a romantic glow. They stand in two lines forming a path in which she is to take towards Petyr. She follows the path with her eyes and spots him standing before the tree with the face carved into it and her breath stops. He stands there, his hands flat against his stomach, one on top of the other. He is wearing a black ornate outfit, not unlike all the ones he always wears. He has a cloak on his back. It, too is black as the night. The smile he wears is not his usual sly one that you'd find him donning during mischievous acts. This one is genuine and awestrucken. His lips part as he takes in her beauty. A lone tear escapes from her eye and falls quickly down her cheek, landing somewhere in the snow below. He had done all of this for her. She thought it was going to be a quiet ceremony with only 3 or 4 present, themselves included. But here stood many of the Lords and Ladies that were staying at Winterfell, all here to watch her give herself to Petyr for the rest of her days.

She is brought back to the present when Ser Davos leans down and whispers in her ear "Are you ready, my Lady?" She looks to him and nods, then faces towards her betrothed again.

As she walks towards him, all eyes are on her. He doesn't even notice the guests who are present anymore. All he sees is her. She is in a beautiful gown barely a shade darker than the snow that surrounds her. The firelight glows around her, causing her hair to look like flames flowing down her back. Little jewels sparkle as she walks and her cheeks flush the nearer she gets. Her eyes glisten and he hopes that it is from tears of joy and not regret or pain. She smiles at him and all worry is washed away. In that moment there are only two people. Him and her. They are alone in the world and he is not scared. She stops when she is standing in front of him. They look at each other as if seeing the most precious thing, and to them that is what they are. He almost doesn't notice that Ser Davos has reached his hand out offering Sansa's hand to him. He recovers quickly, takes her delicate hand in his and leads her closer to him. Petyr reaches out and cups her face in his left hand and whispers to her "You look stunning my love. I have never seen a more beautiful sight than you in that dress, in these woods, waiting to become my wife." He leans forward to kiss her but Ser Davos clears his throat to distract and stop him.

"I don't believe we are at that part yet, Lord Baelish." Slightly embarrassed and aware of the guests again as they chuckled softly to themselves, Petyr nods his head in agreement and turns to face Sansa and reaches for her other hand.

Ser Davos walks around them to stand before the Heart Tree and begins the ceremony. It is a quick affair and after they have said their vows and Petyr has cloaked Sansa bringing her under his protection he tells the newlywed couple that they may now kiss.

Most marriages are between a man and a woman who has yet to have surrendered her maiden hood, and thus most first kisses are chaste in nature. Petyr and Sansa are considerably more familiar with each other so theirs is a bit more amorous. He pulls her to him, one arm around her waist reaching the small of her back, his other comes up to the back of her head and he lets his fingers curl in her hair. Her hands come up to his chest and she clenches the fabric and pulls him closer to her as well. He kisses her in the familiar way they have come to know. She opens her mouth to him, letting his tongue taste her own. After a moment there is a loud hoot followed by laughter as everyone in attendance jests at their open display.

Petyr pulls his head back to look into her eyes and asks her "Are you ready to feast, my wife?" His heart jumps for joy in his chest at the word wife. She is his now in name. From this day until his last day. He is so overcome with joy he can hardly stand it. He dreamed of her being his wife countless times. Wanted it for so long. But he never thought the day would actually arrive. The more ingratiated he becomes with Sansa, the less other things that once drove him forward matter. Less often does he think of the Iron Throne and more on how to keep her safe and happy at his side. He thinks this should bother him, but it doesn't.

Sansa smiles at Petyr and giggles a bit saying "Yes my Lord husband. I am rather ravenous." She is married, for the third and hopefully final time. Warmth spreads through her veins reaching the very tips of her being. A clam comes over her as she realizes that she is no longer alone. She does not have to worry about Petyr's intentions with her or anyone else. She knows that anyone can turn on you without notice, but as her husband he is bound by duty and honor to protect her. She doesn't doubt that he will uphold his vows. A devious man he may be, but not where she was concerned and certainly not now that he has finally gotten all he's wanted since the day he laid eyes on her again in Kings Landing.

As they head back inside the walls of Winterfell a lone crow that had been perched among the Godswood takes flight, headed North.

They feast with all the guest who were witness to their marriage. It is not as grand a feast as she had when she married Tyrion. But this was a time of war and her family did not have the funds the Lannister's did. The food was a little better than what they had been eating since the battle, but only barely. The highlight of the meal was the large lemon cake Petyr had made for her and everyone else to enjoy.

Sansa watched as a young and homely kitchen servant stood almost too close to Petyr while cutting the cake into slices enough for everyone. She watched him give her a nod in good praise but he didn't pay her much mind beyond that. The girl, however, was not as sly as her husband was. She could tell that there was more than meets the eye between these two. The girl blushed fiercely at his acknowledgement and kept returning her gaze to him every few seconds, but he was distracted talking with Davos. The little wench was entirely too shy around him to have had any sort of inappropriate history with Petyr. If they had lain together she would be more confident in her actions, rather than clumsy as she was. Nevertheless, jealousy reared it's ugly head inside Sansa's mind and she promised herself that she would ask him about the girl the moment they were alone.

Once the cake was long finished and most of the men were inebriated Sansa whispered to Petyr "Are you ready to retire my husband?" His face immediately lit up like a child's on their name day as they recieved their presents. He grabbed her hand under the table and stood, helping her to do the same.

A Wildling yelled out above the voices "Is it time for the bedding ceremony already?" Sansa cringed in fear at his words and Lord Baelish said simply in reply "There will be no one witnessing me bed my lovely young bride, for her body is for my eyes only from here on out. You'll have to find your jollies elsewhere I'm afraid." And with that he gently tugged on her hand and lead them to her chambers.

"Thank you, Petyr." She whispered as they left the hall. "It is highly unnecessary for us to follow that tradition. Especially since most everyone in all of Winterfell knows we have consummated our relationship already." He tells her matter of factly.

She is confused. "What do you mean that most everyone knows we have consummated our relationship?"

He looks over to her as they walk and he cocks an eyebrow "Come now my dear, you didn't think that no one has heard you did you?" He asked. "And even if they hadn't heard you, you've slept in my room many nights already. It wouldn't be entirely unbelievable that we had already done the deed."

Sansa is shocked into silence. Now that he's said it it is rather obvious that people would come to these conclusions. But she did not, however, realize that she could have been overheard while she was with Petyr. "I didn't think anyone heard me." She says quietly, looking down to the stone floor.

"Oh sweet little wolf, the walls may be made of stone but you are most definitely not a silent lover." He teases her. She smacks her free hand on him arm and huffs at him. He only laughs as they stop at her door. Their door.

"I had the servants see to a few things while we married." He said to her, looking a bit apprehensive. He opens the door and let's her step into the room first. She stops one step inside the chamber and is stunned by what she sees. All of Petyr's things have been moved into the room and it looks as though he has always been there. His things coexisting seamlessly with her own. "I love it." She says turning to him and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"Good." He replied. "I worried that it would upset you."

"You are my husband now, Lord Baelish. What is mine, is yours." She beams at him.

"That is true, Lady Baelish." He says, smiling as her new name falls off his tongue.

"I do love the way that sounds." She says and walks further into their chambers. She walks to the doorway that leads to the smaller room off the main one. She hadn't had time to find use for it in the brief time since the battle against Ramsay but now found it housed Petyr's desk and a chair with a basket of her needlework supplies beside it on the floor. "Now we can spend our time together in all aspects of our lives." He says near her ear as he wraps his arms around her front, pulling her back close to his chest.

Sansa lays her head back on his shoulder and he kisses her neck softly. She purrs at his touch and he slowly lets her go. Confused, she turns around to face him. With question in her eyes he answers which was left unspoken "I have a gift for you. I wanted to give it to you before we got...carried away." He smirked at her.

Sansa's mood fell. "I did not think to get anything for you I'm afraid." She says sadly. He tilts her chin up and says "Do not worry my young bride. Marrying me is all the gift I need." He kissed her lips quickly then walked into the side room to his desk and pulled out a small box from one of the drawers.

"I do not agree that that is enough, but if you are ok with a delayed gift I would like to make you something." She says.

"I would be delighted to receive anything from you my love." He says as he comes to a stop right in front of her. He holds his hand out to her and she takes the small wooden box in both of hers. She opens it and her breath catches.

"It's beautiful Petyr." She gasps as she takes the small pin out of the box to examine it closer. He takes the box from her hand and sets it aside, watching her as she studies his gift. It is a silver Mockingbird pin, just like his. Only hers has emerald jewels and tiny pearls encrusted on it's surface. He takes the pin from her hands and pins it on the cloak she is still wearing from their ceremony. "You are now Sansa Baelish and I wanted you to have a token of our House with you at all times."

"Thank you Petyr, I love it." She says as she looks down at the pin and carasses the little bird. She smiles, she was his little bird now. She looked up to her husband and told him "And I love you too. Now make love to me husband. I hear it is necessary to legitimize a marriage."

He laughed and said "As you wish, my wife." And he swooped her up off her feet and carried her to their bed.


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Petyr is the first to wake and he smiles, keeping his eyes closed, as he feels the weight of his new wife laying on his chest. He thinks back to their wedding night and his smile widens. He had done things to her he had yet to up until then. He could still taste her on his lips, hear her as she gasped his name when he had licked her and entered her with his tongue. He could feel her hands in his hair holding him close to her and he used his mouth on her in ways she had never imagined. He could still fell her trembling beneath him as he reminisced about how he entered her while she was still coming down from one high peak and quickly brought her to the next one. And the next.

She stirred and lazily lifted her head to look into his now open eyes. "Good morning my dear husband." She grinned up at him. He kissed her forehead and said "Good morning my lovely wife. I was just thinking of last night."

Sansa raised her eyebrows at him and asked "You were, were you?" She turned her head to his chest and started kissing a path down his stomach. "I was dreaming of last night myself. I was thinking maybe I could return a few favors, since I didn't get the chance before." Petyr closed his eyes and laid his head back down as her lips traveled further south until they reached their destination. He sucked in his breath quickly as she lowered her mouth on him and quite expertly, for a girl who claimed to have no real experience, brought him over the edge at an alarmingly fast rate.

Hours later when the sun was high above them in the sky outside the castle walls, they lay with their limbs entangled breathing sighs of contentment. "If I had known being your wife would be so... satisfying, I may have insisted upon marrying your before we left the Vale." Sansa said lazily. Petyr chuckled and said "My dear wife, good things come to those who wait."

"Speaking of waiting, I have been meaning to ask you about something but I keep getting distracted." She said with a smile as she sat up. "Only good distractions, I hope." He replied, sitting up to join her.

She laughed, "Yes, only good distractions. However, I noticed something last night at the feast and would appreciate an explanation on the matter."

"Ok. What is it?" He said slightly nervous. He currently had no major plans in action here in Winterfell so he couldn't imagine what she spoke of.

"There was a girl, in the hall. The kitchen servant who served the lemon cake to everyone." She said, not yet asking a question.

"I remember her, what is your question my wife?" Ahhh, so she noticed. He really did need to give her more credit. She had learned from the best hadn't she?

"Well, I noticed that she could not keep her eyes off of you. And she was much too close to you for it to be considered appropriate. I do not believe that anything too serious has transpired between the two of you but I know that there is definitely something you haven't told me yet in regards to her." She said.

Petyr thought to himself for a moment. He spent his whole life only trusting himself and never letting anyone in on his plans and manipulations completely. If he wanted to continue in the Game and keep her trust in him intact he would have to be completely honest with her in all aspects. Though the thought of always telling her everything went against the core of his being, he found that it did not bother him quite as much as he had expected it to. In fact, he found that he was looking forward to having her be his partner in crime. So to speak.

He moved on the bed to face her completely and grabbed one of her hands in his and held it in his lap. "She is nothing but a pawn, my little wolf." He began. "I met her after the battle and thought she could be useful in the future so I occasionally engage in conversation with her to keep her on the hook." She kept her emotions in check, letting none of them show on her face. He continues "I never once lead her on to believe that something more between her and I will ever transpire, but I do admit to being more generous in my attention to her than I would with the average servant. She is to be our little bird. I promise you that I will never take another woman to my bed that isn't you, Sansa Baelish. You are my most cherished possession and hold all of my attention from here until my dying breath. There will never be any competition or reason to be jealous where my heart and body is concerned. I am yours, truly and wholly. You trust my words don't you my love?"

All while he spoke she did not say a word. She sat silently listening to everything he said to be certain she did not hear a lie. She was very pleased with what she heard. Petyr had spoken only the truth. She smiled at him and said "Of course I trust you my love. I believe you. Everything you said. I didn't doubt your faithfulness, I was only curious your exact relationship with the girl." After assuaging his ego she asked, "So, what information has she given to you?"

"To us." He corrected. "Nothing as of yet. I've only been able to just get her onto my side a couple of days ago." He told her of the flower and how he intentionally had her bring the cakes to their chambers after he knew Sansa would be there to keep her on her toes so she wouldn't read too much into the small gift.

"You are too cruel, Lord Baelish." She teased him. "That poor girl doesn't stand a chance against the feelings she will surely develop for you, if she hsasn't already."

Petyr was very pleased with how well the talk was going. Having her in the know was actually rather enjoyable. He could imagine many entertaining hours conspiring together in the future. At that thought he smiled and stood up. "Come now woman, it is time to dress for your husband is famished." She laughed that laugh he had only heard once before. His heart sang in joy at the sound.

"Woman, eh?" She jested as she got off the bed and began to chase him around the bed. He laughed as he let her catch her after evading her grasp for a few steps. He held her around her waist and lifted her off her feet and spun her around. Tears fell down her face as she laughed harder than she probably had since she was a child without a care in the world. Petyr could not remember the last time he had had so much fun with someone. Genuine and exciting fun without the inclusion of sex. It had been decades. A lifetime.

As he set her back on her feet and turned her to face him she slid her arms around his middle and smiled at him. "I do love you, you know that right?" She asked him.

"Yes, my love. I do know that. I love you too little wolf. More than you'll ever know." He gave her one sweet kiss and released her. "Now get dressed. I don't want you swooning for lack of food." She kissed his chin and turned to her chest and picked out a dress and busied herself with putting it on.

The next few days went mostly the same with them doing their duties during the day and laughing and making love during the night. Petyr now sat at the head table in the hall next to his wife and council meetings among the men of the North were a bit different. They held him in higher esteem and seemed to listen a bit more attentively to his advice, assuming that if Sansa Stark trusted him enough to marry him then surely they could trust him a bit more too.

About a week after he had left in the night, Jon sent a raven from the Wall stating that he had made it safely and that Bran was indeed there and alive and well. After a few days of resting and restocking their supplies they would make their way back down to Winterfell.

"Well, the scroll seems positive. No mention of needing to speak with me when he arrives back home or anything else ominous." Sansa said relieved. "Do you think that perhaps Bran hasn't said anything yet? Jon was never good at hiding his emotions. And they were usually of the negative sort."

"I agree, your half brother is rather vocal in his opinions. I don't believe Bran has said anything. Maybe he will wait to speak with you first. Either way, I still stand by my original opinion that you shouldn't worry until there is reason to. Just stay calm my little wolf. It will all be ok. You are now a married woman with an army of Knights larger than anyone else's in the realm, save for those in Kings Landing. But they won't bother with issues in the North if it does not concern them, and this does not." He said trying to ease her worried mind.

"As always, you are right my Lord. I will not fret until there is a true reason to." She said, nodding her head to herself.

"I am your husband Sansa. Not your Lord." He reminded her.

"I'm sorry. Old habits die hard. Blame it on my impeccable breeding." She joked.

"Impeccable indeed." He said as he lead her to their chambers.

A week later Sansa called for Petyr to join her in the room off their bedchamber. "I have finished your wedding gift, finally." She said proudly.

There was a large packaged on his desk wrapped in fabric and twine. He untied the bow and let the strings fall to the desk. As he opened the fabric he saw more fabric within. He pulled the garment up off the desk and shook it out a bit. It was a cloak. The outer layer was solid black and had black fur along the collar. "I know the fur is not normally your style, but Winter is here and it'll be the coldest one in memory. I wanted to make sure you stayed warm." She explained as she watched him run his fingers along the soft fur.

"I do appreciate it my love. I will wear it with pride. And I am positive I will be grateful of the furs as the weather grows colder." He said and meant it.

"You haven't even seen the best part." Giddily she took the cloak from his hands and turned it inside out. The inside of the cloak was a golden yellow, like his banner colors. And at the part of the cloak that would be touching his heart there were two sigils side by side in intricate detail. A mockingbird and a Direwolf's head.

He inspected the stitching closely and praised her "The detail is exquisite, my love."

"Now you will always have me close to your heart, in it and on it. Also, it represents us standing side by side but apart of the same piece. We are two halves of a whole."

"Sansa my dear, I can't even begin to tell you how much I love this. It is truly a masterpiece. The perfect wedding gift. Thank you so much." He said and brought her close for a kiss, or two.

"I am glad you like it." She said

"Love it." He corrected.

...

Just as the moon was nearing the end of it's cycle Sansa and Petyr stood outside on the battlements looking towards the North. In the distance they heard the sound of hooves galloping towards Winterfell. Sansa reached out for Petyr's hand and held it tightly. Without looking at him she said "They are home."

 **A/N: Sorry, I know this is a shorter chapter than usual. I didn't want to keep making up a bunch of fluf just to get more words in though. I also didn't want to start any of the fun stuff coming just to stop in the middle of it. So, enjoy for now. Next chapter will be more exciting. Be ready! Thank you to everyone who's reviewed and favorited and followed my story! Y'all are awesome! It makes my day!**


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Sansa and Petyr made their way down to the common grounds of Winterfell to await the arrival of Jon and Bran.

"Are you alright?" He asked turning to look at her. "I'm nervous. About everything." She said, her eyes locked on the gates. He nodded his head, though she didn't see.

Her heart was pounding in her ears and her breath quickened as panic rose inside her. She was a grown woman. A married woman. Again. But she was still afraid of what Jon would say. What he would do? Surely he at least knew about his parentage at this point. But how he had reacted to the news she was unsure. Over the weeks she'd wondered what would happen now that he knew Ned wasn't his father. Would he want the others in the realm to know? Would his claim as King in the North be safe with Bran back? What about him being a Targaryen? She had thought it would be better to keep it all secret, but then she remembered that Petyr had known the truth. If he knew the truth then surely others out there did as well. If it became known that Jon knew and did not say he would be branded a liar and no one would stand behind him ever again.

She would soon have to decide her next course of action. Whether she would have to forcefully remove her brother from the throne or if he'd step down willingly. But out of all these different paths, none could be taken until she spoke with him. Sansa wondered if maybe it'd be best if Petyr was not present for their reunion. She did not know what Bran knew and if he had told Jon anything. Maybe having her husband there would set everything off on the wrong foot. But Jon had given his blessing for them to marry. The only thing that had changed from that was that she had married him sooner than she had promised and without his presence.

Deep breaths Sansa, deep breaths. Calm down. Nothing has happened yet. You need to breath. She spoke to herself trying to calm her nerves. Before the gates opened Petyr stood in front of her, sensing her distress.

"My dear, everything is going to be ok. I am here by your side and I am never leaving it. No harm will befall you." He inclined his head to the left, then to the right. In the wings, hiding in the shadows, were Kinghts of the Vale dressed in their full armor and ready for battle. Just in case.

"You don't think it will come to that do you? I do not wish my brothers harmed." She said as her panic intensified.

"Your brother and cousin will not be harmed." Petyr said, subtly reminding her that Jon was no longer her brother. "But his men may be if they make a move to harm you or myself. I am most positive that everything will stay civil my sweet wife." He said reassuringly.

"Then why have them here at all then?" She asked.

"Because my little wolf, it is best to always come prepared for the worst while hoping for the best. You should know by now that I am always ready for any outcome." He said, raising his eyebrow to her and tilting his head to the side.

She nodded "Of course, you're right. I'm just so worried, and I'm trying not to be."

He kissed her forehead then turned back to stand next to her, taking hold of her hand once more, as the gates of Winterfell were raised.

The horses all came to a stop not far from where they were standing. In the middle of them all she spotted Jon on one horse and Bran on another with a girl behind him, holding him up in the saddle. Sansa rushed forward just as Jon was getting off his horse and he helped her as she reached for her little brother. "Bran! You're here!" She cried as she held him close to her while Jon helped support him. The girl got off and hovered around Bran very protectively. The men gathered the horses and took them to the stables.

"Come now, sister, let us take our brother into my chambers where he will sleep tonight. You can interrogate him there while he gets warm in a bed and gets some food in his belly." He tells her, pulling him from her arms and carrying him up to his chambers. Much to her dismay, she let her brother be taken from her and she followed them to Jon's rooms.

As they walked she slowed her steps and Petyr slowed with her. "He called me sister. Could he not know? Could Bran have had other news for him?" She whispered hastily to her husband.

"My dear, for all he knows you are completely unaware of his parentage. It would be most confusing for him to call you cousin before he's had a chance to tell you himself." He reminds her.

"Yes, of course. I hadn't thought of that." She nodded.

After Jon laid Bran down in the bed and covered him with the furs he said "I will see to getting a meal for you and Meera. And rooms for you." He said the last part towards the girl Sansa assumed was Meera. "Why don't you join me? Give them a moment." He said to the girl. She nodded and hesitantly stood then followed Jon.

"I shall give you two some time to catch up as well. I'll be just down the hall if you need me." Petyr said as he headed towards the door.

"No, stay." He heard the young lad say. "I'd like to speak with the both of you, if you don't mind, Lord Baelish." Having not expected the little Lord to request his presence he turned around slightly surprised but with composed features. "As you wish my Lord." He replied.

Sansa had sat on the bed next to Bran, one of his hands in both of hers. Petyr stood behind her and waited to see what the last surviving Stark male had to say.

"I know you two know about Jon." He turned to Sansa "The crow in the Godswood was me. I know you know and I heard everything you said to Lord Baelish." He said very calmly without a trace of menace in his voice. Sansa looked panicked and began "I have no intentions of-" he raised his hand, stopping her mid sentence.

"I know of your intentions. They are to keep the peace in the North, whatever means necessary. Those are mine as well. Jon knows who his true parents are but I did not tell him that Lord Baelish here has told you. I figured you could tell him yourself that you knew. That and of your recent name change." Sansa's jaw dropped open and an audible gasp was heard. "But how?" She asked.

At this Bran smiled "I was there too, only you did not see me that time. It was a beautiful ceremony sister, and I wish I had been there in person to witness it. But I understand your reasoning for not waiting. The war to come will be the worst that ever was. The North needs to be united as one if we are to have a chance at winning. This is why I stated that my intentions to keep the peace were the same as yours. I do not wish to go against Jon, though maybe not by blood, Jon is our brother. But the undead do not care if we have unsettle in our lands. They will kill us all the same." He said.

Sansa found comfort in the fact that her brother knew everything already. It took a weight off her shoulders. She leaned forward and hugged Bran fiercely and cried into his shoulder. As she hugged him he looked up into Petyr's eyes. His look was one of loyalty and protectiveness. Petyr got the message loud and clear. Bran sided with his sister, not him. Petyr slowly nodded his head downward, acknowledging his unspoken words.

During this exchange Jon walked back into the chamber and took in the sight before him "Lord Baelish." He said walking towards the bed. "Your Grace." Petyr replied, bowing to his King. Sansa broke her hug and sat back so that Jon could place the stew in front of Brand. "Where is Meera?" He asked.

"She is bathing and eating in her chambers. She will be back in a couple of hours though. She suggested giving us all a bit of time to ourselves." He said as he eyed Petyr, questioning his continued presence with his eyes but not speaking aloud.

Sansa noticed her cousin's look and stood to tell him of her marriage. "Jon, there's something I need to tell you." She began.

"I was beginning to think so." He said, his eyes finally leaving Petyr and settelling on Sansa.

"I know I promised that I'd wait, but I just couldn't. Petyr and I were married not long after your departure." She said nervously.

Jon said nothing at first and looked between the both of them. Then he unexpectadly laughed and walked towards Sansa, bringing her in for a hug. "Congratulations sister! I do wish you had waited so Bran and I could be present, but I understand what is like to be in love and not wanting to wait." He said smiling. He reached out to Petyr to take his hand in a shake. Petyr was hesitant but reached out for his grasp and shook it strongly, just as the King did.

Sansa stood there looking more nervous than before and Jon was confused. "What is wrong sister? Are you not happy with the marriage already?" He asked, immediately glaring at Petyr. Petyr rolled his eyes. This young King was a dramatic one.

"No Jon. I am very happy with Petyr. He has been nothing but the most kind, gentle, and loving husband. I am truly blessed." She began. "But there is one more thing that I need to confess to you."

"You can't be expecting a babe already can you? There hasn't been time yet... Unless..." Jon said.

Sansa laughed lightly "No Jon, I am not with child. At least not to my knowledge." She said, giving Petyr a sly smile. "What I needed to confess is that I know already."

"Know what?" Jon asked, confused as ever.

"Jon. I know." She said with more emphasis.

And then the King got it. "You know? How? Bran told you already?"

Petyr stepped in "Actually your Grace, I am the one who told Sansa." He said, waiting for the confusion and outrage that was sure to follow.

"You? How did you know Lord Baelish?" Jon asked more confused than ever. Petyr thought to himself, you know nothing Jon Snow.

"The how's are not so important your Grace. I have known since you were but a babe in your uncles arms. I kept your secret, even from you, for your safety. As bad as a man you may assume I am, and you wouldn't be entirely wrong, I do not condone the killing of innocent babes. And that's exactly what your fate would have been if Robert Baratheon knew that you were the product of Lyanna and Rhaegar's marriage."

Jon thought on that for a moment. "I find it hard to want to trust you seeing as you knew intimate details of my life and kept them from me. But I understand the reasons why you kept them to yourself and in doing so I am still alive to stand here before you today." He thought to himself for another moment and finished "Thank you Lord Baelish for keeping my true identity to yourself. Can I assume that you'll continue to do so until I've decided myself what I am to do with the information?" He asked.

"No thanks are needed your Grace. Of course I will keep your secret. I have no ill will towards you or the crown, seeing as I am now married to your sister. Cousin. Forgive me, that will take some time to get used to. Though, I suppose she is still your sister in the eyes of everyone that is not in this room so I shall not get used to the new terminology just yet." He said.

"I thank you nonetheless." Jon replied.

All this time Sansa and Bran had kept quiet, watching everything unfold. Jon turned to Bran and sat next to him on the bed. Sansa sat on his other side and Petyr stayed standing. "How's the food?" Jon asked Brand.

"Better than I've had in years." He smiled up at the King. "Good." Jon laughed.

Sansa couldn't stand not knowing so she asked Jon "What will you do now? Will you keep it secret or tell everyone?"

Jon looked to her and said "I havne't decided yet. For now, we need to keep it secret. I have considered telling Ser Davos. I can always trust his advice." He said as he looked to Bran. "Do you think it is wise to tell him?" he asked him.

Bran finished his bite and swallowed, taking his time. "I think it would be wise to seek the Ser's council. We can trust him." He said.

Sansa was impressed with how mature her brother had gotten. He was no longer a young boy who only wanted to climb on things. He was wise beyond his years. But the last few years had changed all of them. Forced them to grow up much too quickly. Bran yawned and tried to disguise how tired he truly was.

"You're tired brother. I will let you rest. We can speak more in the morning." Sansa said to him as she leaned down and kissed him on the forehead.

"I won't be running off anywhere." Bran joked as he gestured towards his broken legs.

"That isn't funny." Sansa argued as she laughed. "I have missed you so much." She said as she stood from the bed.

"I have missed you too. I will see you bright and early I am sure." He said and laid back on the pillows.

"If there are any changes, if anything happens-" Sansa says to Jon.

"Yes, of course you will be the first to know." He assures her and leads her and Petyr to the door. "No go on and be a happy newly wed couple." Jon jokes, wagging his eyebrows at them. Sansa playfully smacks his arm and tells him to stop.

Once back in their chambers Petyr dismisses her handmaiden and begins to help her undress. "Are you pleased with how things went my love?" He asks her noticing that she is lost in thought.

"Yes, very pleased. No one was mad at me and everyone was happy. I couldn't have wished for a better outcome." She said.

"See little wolf, I told you not to fret until absolutely necessary." He told her.

"Yes, my husband seems to always be right." She turned and smiled at him as he helped her out of her gown, his fingers burning a trail down her skin.

"Take me Petyr. I need you right now, more than I ever have." She didn't have to ask him twice and he lead his wife to their marriage bed and loved her every way he knew how.

...

The next morning Sansa was up as the first rays of the sun were lighting the sky. She dressed quickly and left Petyr alone to sleep until he woke on his own. She rushed down the hall until she reached Jon's changers. She stood outside and listened to see if they were awake. She heard talking behind the door so she opened it quietly and peeked her head inside. She found Bran sitting up in bed next to the girl, Meera, and Jon was on a chair next to the bed. They all turned and looked at her as she peered inside. "Well, are you going to join us or just stand there like a simple girl and stare?" Jon joked with her.

She walked in and Jon stood and brought another chair near the bed for her to sit in. Before she sat down she leaned across the bed and held her hand out towards the girl. "I'm Sansa Stark. Well, Baelish now actually. I'm Bran's oldest sister." The girl took her hand, although upon closer inspection the girl seemed to be at least Sansa's age. "I'm Meera Reed, Howland Reed's daughter. He sent me and my brother, Jojen to protect Bran." She said in reply.

"Where is Jojen?" Sansa asked and immediately regretted asking when she saw her face fall. "He did not survive the journey here, I'm afraid." She said sadly.

"I'm sorry. I have lost two brothers and many more. I understand your pain. Thank you, Meera, for bringing my brother back to me safely. I am in your debt." Sansa told her.

"You owe me nothing, but I appreciate your kind words. I am sorry for your losses as well, my Lady." She said finally looking back into Sansa's eyes.

"Please, call me Sansa." She requested. Meera nodded in acknowledgement.

The four of them sat around and talked, mostly Sansa and Jon listening to Bran and Meera tell them of all they had seen and been though over the years since escaping Theon and the Iorn Born in Winterfell. After a few hours a servant brought food in for them to all break their fast. They spent the better part of the day exchanging stories. Sansa and Jon glossed over the worst part of their own stories but they could tell that Bran knew more than he was letting on. But still, neither felt the need to go into detail about such horrid memories. It would do none of them any good.

Once the sun was getting close to setting in the western sky there was a knock at the door. "You may enter." Jon said loud enough to be heard through the door.

As the door opened Ser Davos walked inside. "Your Grace, my Lord and My Ladies. I am sorry to intrude, but I was told you wanted to see me." He said looking towards Jon.

"Please, when we're in private call me Jon." Jon told him. Davos nodded his head in agreement. "Come, pull up a chair and join us." He said.

Ser Davos did as he was bid. Once seated Jon began to speak "I requested you join us because I have some serious news to share with you that must not be spoken of outside this room unless I give the word. Do you understand the severity of what I am about to tell you?" Jon asked the Ser. "Yes, your Grace, Jon. I understand. As your Hand I will never repeat anything you tell me in confidence." Ser Davos replies.

"Very good." Jon says and continues to tell him of Bran's warging. Ser Davos is no stranger to this and instantly believes everything he is told as truth. Bran finishes the story about how he witnessed Lyanna dying in her childbirth bed and how she asked her brother, Eddard Stark, to protect her secret from everyone. He revealed how her secret was that Jon was her son with her husband Rhaegar.

Davos takes the news in stride. Almost seemingly unaffected by it. After a moment of contemplation he tells Jon "I will not tell a soul. You are my King, no matter who your parents are, and my fealty is sworn to you." Ser Davos says with conviction. Jon reaches out and grabs his hand, both of them hovering over Sansa's lap.

"Thank you Ser Davos, I knew I could trust you. I do have a question to ask. You advice on the matter really." Jon says. "Anything for you Jon." Davos replies.

"With the true war coming I was thinking it might be better if we did not let this become common knowledge just yet. The North needs to be united if we wish to stand a fighting chance against the White Walkers. I am afraid that they will not be too keen to discover that their new King is not actually a Stark, but a Southern born Targaryen."

"Jon, you are a Stark no matter who your father is, but I understand what you are getting at." Ser Davos thought to himself, bringing his hand up to his chin and looking down while he considers Jon's question. "Jon, I agree that you should keep this to yourself for the time being. I think the Northerners will be upset if they learn that you kept this from them, but their safety in the war to come is more important than that at this time. We can work out a way to make amends after the war is won. But right now, keeping everyone united is paramount. There is already unrest amongst the men because of the presence of the Free Folk. Any further discord could lead to the breaking down of the North and the ultimate loss of all our lives in the very near future."

Everyone sat in silence as they let his words sink in. Bran was the first to speak up saying "Well then it's settled. No one outside this room shall know the truth for the time being. Sansa, I assume you can keep your husband from spreading this throughout the Realm?" He asks. Sansa is a bit hurt by his accusing words but she is not a fool. She understands the reputation her husband has. "Yes, I can make sure he stays quiet." She assured them all.

"Then that is enough serious talk for one day. Let us go down to the hall for dinner and celebrate the homecoming of our little brother!" Jon says excitedly.

They all get up and Jon reaches down to lift Bran. Meera, having been quiet this whole time looks comfortable but not quite part of the group. Sansa goes to her and tells her quietly "Thank you so much for keeping him safe, again. Anything you need, let me know and it is yours. You are one of us now, you are our family. You will always be welcome in Winterfell. Do you understand?" She asked.

"Yes my Lady." She replied.

"I told you to call me Sansa. We are sisters now."

"Yes Sansa. Thank you." She said and diverted her eyes back towards Bran. Sansa had a feeling there was more than meets the eye between her brother and his protector but now wasn't the time to inquire.

As they reached the hall Sansa was grabbed by her arm and spun around and pushed up against the stone wall. She gasped as familar lips pressed tenderly against hers. She sighed in his embrace and wraped her arms around his neck.

"Did you have a good day my love? I missed you." Petyr said as he leaned back to look into her eyes.

"The best day my love. Thank you for giving me the time with my brothers I so needed." she thanked him. "Ser Davos knows and agreed that we should keep it secret for now." She whispered in his ear. He nodded his head in acknowledgement. "He did not seem bothered in the least by the news. That was a pleasant surprise." She finished.

"Your brother is a good man. Many look up to him. Though he may not be the rightful heir to the North, he may be the best one for the job for now. At least until after the war." Petyr says. Sansa doesn't quite like what he is implying but she knows her husband, ever the schemer. It is his nature.

"Petyr, not now..." She begins.

"No my love, not now. Some plans unfold more quickly than others. This one is not one of them." He says and steps away from her, taking her hand and leading her into the hall to have their supper. Sansa doesn't say another word as she lets her husband lead her to the head table where her brother, his protector, and her cousin await her.

Petyr looks at Sansa, her face set in the look she gets when she is deep in thought. He smiles to himself. Another seed had been planted and has taken root.

 **A/N: Ok, so maybe this wasn't quite as dramatic as I originally planned but when I write I have only a vague idea of how I want the story to go. I let it flow on it's own as I'm writing it. Sometimes even I am surprised at the turns it takes. This chapter sets the groundwork for a lot of things to take place. I hope y'all have enjoyed it. Please let me know what y'all think. :)**


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

A week later most of the men in Winterfell who had fought in the battle were mostly healed. They were able to start helping with the hunting and gathering of what food was left to be found under the snow that had already fallen. The food was still bland and mostly the same at every meal but it helped to have more hands finding more.

Sansa spent many hours a day mending clothes and cloaks and blankets for anyone around who needed it. Petyr was busy with the Lords and Jon planning for any and all scenarios involving the White Walkers. He was also named master of coin, though without the fancy title. Basically Jon had given him the ledger and told Petyr to take care of business. Bran spent most of his time with the men or out in the Godswood near the Heart Tree warging, trying to learn any and everything he could.

After another month had passed they got the Raven from the South. Jon walked into Sansa and Petyr's chambers and said "She has reached Kings Landing." He didn't need to say more. They knew what he spoke of. They both set down what they were working on and followed Jon into the room he used for smaller meetings.

Just Sansa, Petyr, Tormund, Davos, Bran, and Jon were present. "I wanted to speak with you all first before I talked with all the other Lords." Jon began. "There was no request for aid from Cersei or Daenerys, only a notification that the Dragon Queen had reached the port of Kings Landing from Varys." Jon finished.

He waited a moment for everyone to process the information then he continued. "She has a fleet of a thousand ships and 3 almost full grown dragons. It is rumored that Cersei plans to use her cache of wild fire to take out as many ships and men as she can. She does not plan to surrender. She will burn the entire kingdom down along with her if she has to. She will not surrender the Iorn Throne alive." He finishes.

Sansa asked "What are to do? Just sit here and wait while they destroy each other and see who ends up on top?"

"Basically." Jon replied.

"That is the best course of action my Lady." Ser Davos tells her. "We should not waste men and resources on a battle that isn't about us." He says.

"Lord Varys also said in his scroll that Queen Daenearys said if we stayed in the North and did not fight her claim to the Iron Throne that she would not retaliate against us." Jon continued.

"Well, this all seems very simple then to me. We sit here and wait to see what happens and then act accordingly to the outcome." Petyr assesses. He looks around and all in attendance nod their heads in agreement.

Jon stands and says "To the hall then." And everyone follows as he walks out.

...

Jon stood at the head table and waited for everyone to be silent.

"Quiet your fools!" Tormund bellowed from the back. Not having seen that the order was given by a Wildling, every settled down and shut their mouths.

"I recieved a raven from the south. Daenerys Targaryen, the Dragon Queen, is due to make landfall at Kings Landing within the week." He paused as everyone rumbled amongst themselves. After a moment he continued "She has promised to leave us be if we do not interfere with her fight against Cersei for the Iron Throne. I have decided that the best course of action will be to stand down. I have no wish to waste men, time, or resources on a battle that doesn't concern us. Not while the real threat to the North is coming for us any day now."

He sat back down while the Lords talked amongst themselves. After a while Lady Mormont stood up and began to speak. "King Jon is right. We do not need to bother with the Southerners while they fight over a chair made of swords. Our focus should be on the war against the White Walkers. You are my King and I will stand behind whatever decisions you make." She says and then sits down. The other Lords in the room all chant in agreement at her words. Jon smiles, pleased that there wasn't any arguments that needed to occur to get them to see reason.

Petyr sat back and watched everyone as they all agreed with their King and got back to discussing ways to defeat the undead army. Petyr could feel his dreams slowly slipping out of reach. If Daenerys had three dragons at the end of her battle against Cersei then there was no way he could ever dream of sitting on the Iron Throne. No matter how many men he had at his disposal, it would never be enough to compete against fire breathing dragons. They would burn his army to a crisp before they even got near Kings Landing. As unease settled through his body he leaned over to Sansa and whispered in her ear "I am going to take a walk my love, please stay here. We can discuss what I missed later when we are alone."

"Why are you leaving? Is something wrong?" She asked, concerned.

"No my dear, I just need a few moments to myself to gather my thoughts. You will be alright here with Jon." He assured her. She nodded her head and he kissed the top of her head as he stood. Quietly he told Jon "I need to get some air, your Grace."

Jon nodded his head "Of course Lord Baelish." And allowed him to leave.

Petyr could see the question in the young King's eyes. The doubt they held for the man standing before him. He was a wise king to doubt Petyr's motives and actions. Not that Petyr would ever tell him so.

He looked back at his little wolf before he stepped outside. He could see the worry etched plainly on her face. He turned away and stepped out into the cold air.

Snow was beginning to fall already, leaving a clean white blanket on the ground. It made everything look softer somehow. The harsh years that Winterfell had endured were slowly being erased. Burnt beams, doors, walls, and battlements were replace. The whole castle was being restored to its former glory. This was a grand place to live, to govern over. One would be lucky to live their life here and be Lord of the lands. Petyr would love to live here with Sansa, as Lord and Lady of Winterfell. They could raise their children here and find their own bit of paradise here in the North of the Realm. Every morning he would wake not worrying about his next move, his next scheme. He could happily love his wife without threat of harm to her or their children. It would be a peaceful life.

As he walked to the gates and out into the woods he found himself smiling at the thought of living here with her forever. His step faltered when he realized that not once in this pretty picture he was painting himself did it include the Iron Throne or being King of the Seven Kingdoms. Petyr was at a crossroads in his life and he did not like it. He had spent every single day since Brandon Stark bested him in their duel creating and climbing his ladder that would lead him to the top. And here he was considering stopping a few rungs shy of the top.

Was that what he really wanted anymore? Did he really want to continue to fight and scheme and manipulate his way to the Capital? Sansa had shown no desire to be Queen of the Realm. She showed no desire to rule over others. All she seemed to want was a life with him here in Winterfell. Could Petyr truly be happy abandoning his lifelong dream? The more important question he needed to ask himself was could he be happy abandoning his wife for the throne if it came down to it? His heart broke at the thought. Imagining her no longer loving him, trusting him, being by his side day and night, cut him to his core. He stopped and reached out to hold onto a tree as the pain at the mere thought of losing her seared through his body.

Things always changed. Plans changed. Who ruled changed. Alliances change. But the endgame never had before. Not once. But now that vision was blurred around the edges, slowly going out of focus. He stared out into the forest not really seeing what was physically in front of him but instead seeing the abstract. As the Iron Throne he had lusted after for so long slowly faded away a new picture took form. This one was more beautiful than anything he had ever dreamed or imagined or hoped for. As the vision took shape he realized his dream had changed. It took the shape of his beautiful wife. She stood there, in front of him smiling. A light emanated from all around her causing her to appear to be glowing. Her hair was down and flowing out behind her as if caught in a gentle breeze. Her eyes as blue as a clear summer day shinned with a brightness he could only describe as coming from within. Her smile was small but the most genuine he had ever seen on her lips. She held her hands if front of her stomach, protecting it, holding it. He realized that it was swollen with his child inside.

Petyr slowly slid to the ground as he saw her there in front of him, the epitome of beauty and love. The vision did not scare him. Did not make him fear for the future. The sight he saw comforted him and brought him happiness. Could this be what he had truly needed all along? Ever since Catelyn had chosen another over him he had set any and all goals on the exact opposite of love. Not wanting to ever be hurt again he refused to entertain thoughts of happiness that revolved around a woman. They were fickle in their affections, hurtful even. Being scorned by his first love had left a lasting scar, physically and emotionally, that he was unwilling to endure a second time. As result, he chose to focus on the one thing that he could control completely. His status in the world. And he wanted to be at the top.

Sansa had changed things for him. She burned his ladder to the ground and built a new one that was stronger and higher than his own had ever been. As he climbed as fast as he could to the top all he could see was her face. Putting all his trust in another woman was terrifying. Another Tully woman to be exact. But Sansa was nothing like her mother, was she? She looked enough like her, sure. But even her beauty surpassed that of her mother's. Beyond looks, Sansa had a strength about her that was unequaled in any other woman he had ever met. Most men too. She had endured so much in her short life and still she stood tall and unwavering. And, unlike her mother, she had chose him. She had married Petyr and given herself to him in every way possible. There was really no comparison between the two save for the fact that the same blood ran though their veins. Or had.

Still in a daze at his epiphany, Petyr stood and headed back within the walls of Winterfell to go to his bride and tell her that everything had changed.

...

As she headed to the King's chambers to bring him food for his midday meal she stopped as she heard the men speaking. The door was adjar and she could just make out what they were saying.

"Your Grace,"

"Call me Jon, Davos."

"Jon. Do you really think we can trust the man? He seemed upset when he left the hall earlier."

"My sister trusts him and I trust her. No, I do not fully trust him when it comes to anything, except for where she is concerned."

"I am afraid he will tell your secret. I am afraid he will use it against you to try and overthrow you as King and take power for himself by using Sansa as a pawn."

She heard some shuffling and the King responded but sound further away this time.

"I have heard your worries and will take them into consideration, but for now nothing has changed. We will continue on as we have been and just keep our eyes and ears on my sisters husband. Since he arrived on the battle field he has not once given us a reason to not trust him. In fact, he's done the opposite. Supporting us and our cause with his own men. He didn't have to help, but at Sansa's request he has. And for that I am grateful. But I will stay vigilant, and so should you."

"Yes, your Grace."

"Jon!"

At that she stepped forward and knocked on the door. "Enter." She heard the King say. Timidly, the kitchen servant walked into the King's chambers and curtsied as best she could with a tray full of food and drink. "Where would you like me to put this, your Grace?" She asked, blushing as she looked up into his dark eyes. The King was a very handsome man. He smiled kindly at her and told her to place it on his desk. She did as she was told and curtsied once more and went to the leave.

"Miss?" He called after her. She turned and looked at him.

"Yes your Grace?" She swallowed hard, her nerves knotting in her stomach.

"Thank you." He said and turned back to his companion.

She curtsied again, even though no one was paying attention to her anymore and left the room. She walked straight to his room. Lord Baelish's chambers. Well, his new chambers. He had moved in with his wife. A sour look crossed her face and she composed herself quickly as she neared the door. She knocked on the door and waited. She heard someone walking towards the door and she stood back a step. When it opened she saw Lady Baelish towering over her and smiling at her.

"Hello little bird." she said, the girl blushed at her use of the pet name Lord Baelish had given her. She was upset that he had obviously told her about their talks. She had thought they had been just between them. "May I help you?"

"Ummm, I was looking for Lord Baelish, my Lady." She said quietly and embarrassed.

"Come in, he is at his desk." Lady Baelish said and stepped aside to let her in. Her blush grew as she walked inside the chamber and waited in the middle of the room.

Petyr stood from his desk and walked to her, giving her that sly smile that made her knees weak.

"Hello my dear, do you have something that you wish to share with us?" He asked her. She didn't say anything and her discomfort grew rather apparent. "Don't worry about my wife's presence. She knows of our agreement and we can trust her to keep our secret." He said, making Sansa sound like the outsider to calm the girls nerves. She was completely out of her comfort realm around the Lord and Lady couple.

Petyr spared his wife a quick glance and saw that she played the part very well. No anger showed in her features at his words. Good. She understood the importance of having little birds all throughout Westeros.

The kitchen servant looked up from under her lashes to the Lord and began to speak quietly. "My dear, I'll need you to speak up. My ears aren't as young as they used to be." He said in jest, hoping to get her to relax further. It worked.

"I was commissioned to bring the King his midday meal and I overheard him talking with Ser Davos, my Lord." She began.

"And what did you overhear, little bird?" He asked, walking closer to her, taking up all of her attention. Sansa was impressed with how well he manipulated the girl. She seemed like a rather easy pawn in her opinion.

"He, I mean, Ser Davos was questioning whether or not the King should trust you, Lord Baelish." She began uneasily.

"It's ok little bird, I know these words are not your own." He said to reassure her. He reached out and squeezed her upper arm to comfort her before he let his hand fall back to his side. A blush creeped up her neck and flourished across her face. Poor girl, Sansa thought to herself. She was lost to her husband's charms. Sansa found it amusing.

"He said that he thought you would share his secret, but I swear to you I don't know what this secret is." She said, immediately worried that he would cast her out of his chambers and his life for good.

"I know you don't know. Please, continue." He reassured her again.

"Ser Davos said that he thought you would use this secret against the King and use Lady Baelish as a pawn to overthrow the King and reign in his place." Once she was finished she looked down at her clasped hands in front of her and worried her hands nervously as she waited for someone else to speak.

"Thank you, little bird. You have been most helpful. I owe a debt to you that I promise will be repaid." He reached for her hand and placed a gentle but chaste kiss on the back of her hand and while still holding it in his hand lead her to the door and out of his chambers. She was so flustered she didn't even realized she'd been kicked out until she'd made her way back to the kitchen. She didn't care. He had kissed her!

...

"Petyr, you are so wicked!" Sansa exclaimed.

"I have to keep her on our side my love. I promise to you that nothing will ever transpire between the wench and I-" he began. She cut him off.

"Shut up Petyr. You were brilliant. Heartless, but brilliant nonetheless." She bragged to her love. "What should we do with this news?" She asked him.

"Nothing right now, my love." He told her. "Your cousin and his Hand are watching me now, but they will soon grow quite bored of the task. My goals are no longer the same as they were when I first arrived in Winterfell." he said as he walked closer to Sansa, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"What do you mean, Petyr?" She asked, confused.

"I had a vision in the Godswood. No longer is the Iron Throne my endgame, my love. My goals have changed. In the woods I had a vision of you glowing and beautiful before me, carrying my child in your womb. At that moment I realized I no longer cared if I ruled over the Realm or over an army of ants. All I want in this life is to serve you and please you and raise healthy sons with you. Do you accept my new dream, my little wolf?" He asked her.

Tears filled her eyes as she looked to her new husband and as the first tear fell she replied "Of course I accept that dream my husband. All I have ever wanted was to be in love and be loved by a man who treats me with respect and love and kindness. A man who will always protect me and love our children as much as he loves me. You encompass all those desires and more. I couldn't ask for someone better than you to fulfill all my dreams. I love you Petyr." She finished.

"I do not deserve you." He says as he pulls her close for a kiss.

 **A/N: As I finished this chapter a song started playing on my playlist that fits this chapter perfectly. I Never Knew Love- Doug Stone... Creepy right? Anyway, how do y'all like Petyr's change of heart? I just can't see him being cruel and unchanging in his ways forever. He is how he is because he was scorned by Catelyn once. I believe that if his love was returned he would be an entirely different man with entirely different drives. Maybe that's just me.**


	16. Chapter 15

**A/N: Sorry for the delayed update, my airline had some major technical issues last week that effected business though the weekend. I'm sure some of y'all may be aware of that. Anyway, I worked longs days and had no chance to write this weekend. Also, there is a way I would like this story to go and I have a few endings in mind but it's proving difficult to figure out. There are so many factors to consider and certain endings just seem extremely unlikely in my opinion. One character I couldn't find a name for so I made it up. I do not own the character, only his name. Also, there is some explicit language, but you'll understand why soon!**

Chapter 15

Later that night as the whole castle slept, Sansa was awoken by the sound of horses and men outside her window. She quietly slipped out of bed, trying hard not to disturb Petyr. After she slipped on her thick winter robe and tied it around her waist tightly she walked to the window and peered to the grounds below. She spotted five men riding though the gates and ten Stark banner men in a semi circle waiting for the men inside, swords drawn. She opened the window slightly to better hear the conversation below.

"Who goes there?" One of the banner men asked harshly.

"We come in peace. I am Beric Dondarrion and we are the Brotherhood without Banners. We've come to help in the war from the North." He stated proudly.

"Lord Beric, who are your traveling mates?" The banner man asked, noticibly calmer.

"I have Thoros of Myr with me here to my right, Anguy of the Stormlands behind me, Merrill over there behind Thoros. And you may already know this man here to my left. Sandor Clegane." With his last introduction the Stark men stood at attention again, having already heard of the Hound's reputation. "Now now young soldiers, Sandor is with me. He will cause you no harm. Please set down your arms and take us to your King." He reasoned.

Sandor was alive? Brienne had told her that she had killed him when she found him with Arya. Either he had risen or he hadn't been as dead as she originally thought him to be. Sansa's heart raced as she remembered her last encounter with the Hound. He had been waiting in her chambers in the Red Keep during the Battle of Blackwater Bay. He had offered to bring her home to Winterfell and keep her safe. She had refused him, and had regretted that decision ever since. Every bad thing that had happened to her since that night might have been avoided if she'd run away with him. She could have seen her sister again. But, then again, she could be worse off than she was now. She could be dead. There was no telling what may have happened and no point in dwelling on which she could not change. So instead, Sansa slipped into her boots and wrapped a thick cloak with a fur collar around her shoulders and quietly slipped out of the room. She walked briskly down to the grounds and found them empty.

She turned in a small circle, looking for any sign as to wear the men had gone. She saw a light coming from the hall and walked towards it. When she got to the door, which was opened halfway, she stood in the shadows and listened before she went inside.

"Aye, we will get you some food while we wait for the King. Do not move or we will use force against you." The Stark man said.

"We'll behave." She heard Beric say with laughter in his voice. He sounded amused at the precautions being taken.

She peaked in the door and saw the same Stark men standing around the five men of the Brotherhood. Their swords were sheathed but they all stood in at attention with their hands on their sword's hilts. His back was to her as he sat at a table in the middle of the room. Her heart pounded. She was nervous and happy and scared all at the same time. The Hound had been her only protector in Kings Landing and even though she was sometimes scared of him, she knew he would never harm her.

Sansa was no longer the young, naive girl he had known in the Capital and she was no longer scared of him. After all she'd been through since he had left she could now appreciate all he had done for her. Being Joffrey's former bodyguard, he could not prevent all the beatings and cruelty inflicted upon her, but he had always been there to save her, help her back up, and help her in any way he could within his boundaries.

She walked through the door and headed for his table. The Stark men all looked up when she entered and one said to her "My Lady, you should not be in here. It is not safe."

She stopped a few paces from the table, within the circle of the soldiers and said "I am safe. He will not hurt me."

At the sound of her voice Sandor's head snapped up from its previous downcast position. She stood tall and Beric Dondarrion looked at her with an amused look on his face as he watched the Hound's reaction and saw that her eyes were focused on the back of his head. Slowly Sandor stood from the table, his back still turned to her. The guards drew their swords but did not move from their spots.

Sansa held up her hand and said "Lower your swords. I told you, he will not hurt me."

As he turned around he said "No Little Bird, I won't hurt you." She smiled at the words, them having been the last ones he had spoken to her in her chambers in Kings Landing.

Sansa couldn't help the smile that came to her lips as he said those words. Her old friend and protector was here, in the flesh. His eyes searched her from head to toe and he said "You're looking well, girl. I am glad to see you still standing and with a pulse."

She stepped forward a step and stopped when his back straightened. "I am glad to see you still standing and with a pulse too, Sandor. I had heard that my sworn shield had killed you." At her words he laughed and said "Aye, I thought she had too. But you know a dog doesn't die so easily."

She smiled up at him, wanting to hug her old friend but she remembered her audience and refrained. Just then the door to the hall was pushed all the way open and a gust of cold air blew in. Sansa turned towards the door and took a step back, accidentally bumping into the Hound's chest. She looked up at him, startled. He grinned down at her and said quitely "You're safe Little Bird." She smiled in return and turned back to face the approaching form.

Sandor had often wondered what happened to his Little Bird. He had heard of her marriage to the Bolton bastard and he had feared she would not make it out of that relationship alive. He knew that little cunt was a twisted fuck, in some ways worse than that little shit Joffrey had been. The poor girl had been passed around from one sadistic fuck to the next. He was happy to see her here at her home with her king bastard brother. Hopefully he could keep her safer than her father had.

When she had backed into him and saw her fear he worried that she was still afraid of his face. The face of a killer. But when she had realized it was him her features softened and she had smiled at him, looking him straight in the eyes. Only one other girl had looked into his eyes without turning away in disgust and fear, and that had been her sister. He wondered where the little bitch wolf was too. Was she here? Was she alive? He didn't think that she would have survived this long alone, but he hadn't heard a word about her whereabouts since she left him for dead. He hadn't blamed her for that. He'd killed her friend. The fat little butchers boy. And he had been on her little kill list. Some could consider her leaving him there on the side of that mountain to die as cruel. He saw it as a truce. They had formed a bond in their time together, though neither of them would ever admit it aloud.

Sandor took a step back, putting space between the Stark girl and himself, not wanting to set off the King before they had even had a chance to speak.

Jon strode in and stood in front of his sister facing the five strangers. "I know who you are," Jon said towards Sandor, having remembered him from when he last came to Winterfell with King Robert. "But who are the rest of these men?" He asked looking towards Beric and Thoros.

Beric stood and walked around the table saying "I am Beric Dondarrian and this is Thoros of Myr, Anguy of the Stormlands, Merrill, and it seems you already know Sandor Clegane." He said, gesturing to each man as he introduced them. "We are the Brotherhood without Banners and we are here to fight with you against the Night King." He finished.

"Why are you with them, Hound?" Jon asked Sandor. "I thought you were dead."

"I am not going to keep repeating myself for every man who walks through that door." Sandor replied, agitated. As he was speaking he watched Petyr Baelish and two other men walk through the door. One of them had wild hair and wild eyes that quickly scanned everyone in the room. Sandor liked him immediately. Any man who didn't trust anyone else was a man he could trust. Sort of. The third man was older and looked at him knowingly, but with weary in his eyes. A smart man, he was to be weary of the feared Hound. He glared daggers at Baelish, though. What was this fucker up to?

Sansa spoke up this time. "Jon, he means no harm. He is here to help fight the war with us. Nothing else." She defended him. A smirk played on his lips. A Lady had never stood up for him before. She was much more brazen than she had been in Kings Landing. He liked this new version of his Little Bird.

"I do not trust him and don't think you should either, your Grace." The little twat Baelish said to the pretty King. Jon looked at the little Lord and then back to him.

Before anyone could say more Sansa spoke for him again. "I trust him." Was all she said.

Jon looked back to his sister and looked torn. Davos whispered something in his ear no one else could hear. Jon nodded once and then looked back up to Sandor. "You have quite the reputation, Hound. My instincts tell me not to trust you, but my sister says otherwise. I am inclined to take her word, but it is not so easily done." He says.

Petyr chimes in again. "He deserted the Lannister's during the Battle of Blackwater Bay and hasn't been seen or heard from since. He is a ruthless killer and swears no oaths, and fears no man."

"Why is this little fuck here?" Sandor asked about Petyr and was surprised when Sansa turned to him, shocked. She backed away from him a couple steps and he continued, "It is true I fear no man and swear no oaths, but a ruthless killer I am not. I do what is necessary to survive and if my job requires it of me. Though I may enjoy killing bad men, I do not do it for the pure fun of it." He booms in his gruff voice to the King. "I am here to fight against the army from the North, as Beric said. I will not harm your men, or women," he added the last part, looking at Sansa, "unless they aim to harm me first. I only want to keep to myself until the time comes to fight." He finished. Sandor was a man of few words. Long speeches made him uncomfortable.

Jon thought for a moment. When the little worm Baelish began to speak again Jon held up his hand to silence him. Sandor smiled. "You are welcome here in my home and I will order my men to leave you be on one condition. You will not harm a soul here in Winterfell or your head will cease to be attached to your body. Do we have an understanding?" Jon asked, stepping around Sansa to stand in front of the large man with his hand out.

Sandor took his had and shook it hard, the King had a good grip. He looked up as Sansa walked to Petyr's side and she took his hand in hers. What was this shit? He looked at her confused. That girl may be braver than she was before, but she was still stupid as ever, putting her trust in that weasel. He grunted and turned to sit back down at the table and eat the now cold food in front of him.

"After they've eaten make sure they have are all seen to a room. I will see you all in the morning." Jon said and took his leave.

As Petyr and Sansa made their way back to their chambers he said to her quietly "I woke and you were gone. I was worried."

"I heard them as the rode though the gates. When I heard that Sandor was with them I had to go and see him." She looked over at Petyr and saw a flash of jealousy cross his face.

"Why do you care about that dog?" He asked with disgust.

She walked into their room and spun in the middle of the floor and faced him after he closed and barred their door. "Do not speak of him that way." She said firmly.

Confused, Petyr took two steps towards her but stopped when he saw the fierce look on her face. "Why my love? What is going on here? Is there something I should know about you and the Hound?" He asked accusingly.

"Nothing in the way you are thinking, Petyr. He and I do not have a romantic history, but we have a history nonetheless." She explained. "He was always kind to me in Kings Landing. He never once laid a hand on me to hurt me. He saved me so many times I lost count. In some ways he was my only ally there." She said the last part quietly.

Petyr's mind eased as he heard her words. He was glad to hear there was nothing inappropriate about their relationship, but his heart saddened to remember all that she had endured in the Capital and how he hadn't been able to save her himself. "Of course my love. I understand. If it pleases you to have him here I won't say another word on the matter. I do not trust the man, but I trust that he will not harm you." He tells her.

"I almost ran away with him once." She told him as she walked back to their bed, discarding her cloak on a chair along the way.

"You did?" He asked, his interest piqued. "And when was this?"

"During the Battle of Blackwater Bay. I escaped to my room, I couldn't stand to be alone with all the ladies and Cersei anymore. He was waiting in my chamber, drunk." She told him. Petyr stopped and steadied himself, a wave of anger and jealousy flashed through him. He did well to hide the emotions from her, though. "He told me he was leaving to go someplace that wasn't burning. He told me he intended to go North and said he would take me home if I went with him. I thought Stannis had won the battle and said that I'd stay in Kings Landing. He was disappointed but did not push me. He was kind to me. I knew then that he would never hurt me, and told him so. Some days I wondered what would have happened if I went with him. Then others I am glad I did not. I might not be sitting here as your wife if I had gone. I could be dead." She trailed off.

Petyr reached over and held her hand while she finished her story. "I know he has done bad things in the past, but he was always good to me. Please help me keep him safe. I owe him my life, many times over. And he kept Arya alive for a time too." He considered her words. He did not wish to upset her and he knew if he harmed the Hound without provocation he'd lose her trust. He sighed heavily and replied, "Yes, my love. I will help keep him safe for you. But if he so much as hurts a hair on your head, he will lose his." He said.

"I understand. Thank you." She said and crawled into his lap. His cock immediately stirred the moment she rubbed up against it. She untied her robe and let it fall to the floor. Lifting her night shift she sat up so he could undo the ties on his breeches. As soon as he sprung free she sank down on top of him and began moving at a slow and torturous pace. Her head fell back as her breathing got heavier and moaned. Using his hands to help guide her hips up and down while he trusted up into her slowly, he watched his wife as she came undone at the seams.

He growled possessively as thoughts of another man saving her shot through his mind. His grip tightened on her hips and he forced her into a faster, rougher pace. She cried out in pleasure at the change and he quickly flipped her onto her stomach on the bed. Grabbing her hips again he pulled her back so she was on all fours near the edge of the bed. Standing between her parted legs he grabbed a hold of her braid with one had while guiding his cock inside her with the other. Once he had filled her completely he used his free hand to hold her hip again and began to thrust deeply and almost violently inside her.

Unable to move on her own, Sansa stayed in her current position and moaned loudly as he took her. She hadn't known that it could feel so good to be taken in such a demanding way. He was punishing her with his body, but in ways she did not know she'd enjoy. Pounding into her at an quickening pace brought her over the edge rapidly. She came loudly and he smacked her hard on the bottom as she cried out his name in pleasure.

Letting go of her braid he held both hands on her waist as he furiously thrusted into her again and again and again until he slammed into her one last time, emptying himself deep inside her. Her arms gave way and she collapsed on the bed, bottom still in the air with him inside her, as she grew weak. He slipped out of her and flipped her over once more. Her eyes were closed and she struggled to catch her breath.

She murmured incoherently and he smiled at himself, proud of how he'd made her feel. He helped her turn in the bed and settled her under the furs. He leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips before retrieving his breeches. He pulled them up and walked to their side room at sat at his desk to think.

The new visitors in the night brought many different questions and ideas into his ever busy mind. The wheels began to turn as he poured himself a glass of wine and took a long drink. A smile playing on his lips as he set the glass back down.

 **A/N 2: So, when I'm writing I do lots of Internet searches and watch clips on YouTube so I can try to be as accurate as possible. I did not know if Davos and Sandor had ever met but I'm going to assume they had at least heard of each other for the sake of this story. Remember, I have only begun the books so if they had any interactions in the books, I do not know of them. Also, writing Sandor was a lot of fun! He's so crass! A man after my own heart! Though less vulgar, he speaks aloud how I do in my own head! Ha ha! Btw, writing "You all" instead of "y'all" was very hard to do!**


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Petyr was up the rest of the night thinking about the Hound and his band of bandits he traveled with. The familiar way in which the Hound spoke with his wife did not go unnoticed. He would have to keep a close eye on him. He knew his wife was a loyal little wolf but he didn't want that dog to take advantage of her kindness. He especially didn't want her to find herself in a situation where the Hound took things too far. Sansa was his and no one else's. He did not share.

He looked to her lying in their bed and he smiled. The dog had looked pissed when she had taken his hand. He would have to find out today if the fierce warrior harbored romantic feelings for his Lady or if they were only feelings of friendship, as Sansa said they were. At least on her end.

He got up and walked back to bed just as the sky was beginning to light. It was still too early for most of the castle to be up, but the servants were probably just stirring to get their day started. Petyr decided he wanted to play a little this day. His smirk made it's appearance and he laid down next to her, pulling her close to him and started rubbing gentle circles between her legs to wake her. When she had opened her eyes, and her legs to him, he dipped below the furs and traveled south.

As Sansa dressed later that morning she frowned as she looked in the mirror. "Petyr, did you see this?" She asked, eyeing a bruise like mark high on her neck under her ear.

"What's that my love?" He feigned ignorance. As he walked towards her he was pleased to see the love bite that was blooming rather nicely on her skin. It was not like one of the marks Ramsay would have left. This one will heal completely and disappear. But he had wanted to let the Hound, and anyone else with any ideas, that she was his and his alone. Plus, that little mark would help him determine the dogs true affections towards his pretty little wife.

"I'm sorry my dear, did I do that?" He asked already knowing the answer.

"It's fine." She said, not really sounding fine. "I just don't have anything with a neckline high enough to cover it. I'll have to wear my hair down and over that shoulder." She said.

"I do apologize my love. I promise to be more careful in the future. It will fade soon enough, however." He said reassuringly.

"Yes, I suppose it wil." She said, sighing and giving up trying to cover it. "Let us go break our fast in the hall with everyone today, ok?" She asks, already having made up her mind.

"That sounds like a fine idea little wolf." He says and takes her hand in his arm and leads her down to the hall.

Once there, they took their seats at the head table with Jon. Clegane and his bandit buddies were at the table in closest to them. Petyr had a clear view of him. He smiled as he watched the Hound watch his wife walk up and take her seat. He glanced over to see Petyr's smirking face and grimaced and looked back down at his food as he ate.

Though he didn't look pleased to see him next to her, he didn't look jealous either. Maybe there isn't anything more there than him wanting to protect her from harm. Only time will tell.

Sansa took a bite and looked to her right. Petyr had been acting strange since last night. He was overly negative towards Sandor, and then the way he had made love to her last night was different. Not that she would call that making love, but a Lady does not 'fuck' her husband as a whore would. Even just thinking the word made her cringe. Whether or not it was proper or normal, she had quite enjoyed it and hoped he did those things to her again in the future. But then he never came back to bed. He stayed up all night. Having grown very accustomed to having him hold her all night, she found it difficult to stay asleep in his absence. Then he had left the mark on her neck. She was sure he had done that on purpose. Petyr Baelish was not a careless man. All his moves were planned out and intentional. She just didn't know his reasoning behind his actions.

As they ate she stole glances at him. Every now and again he would catch her looking but he never gave anything away. Once the plates were cleared and everyone was just sitting around talking before beginning their day's duties she saw Sandor stand and start to head out of the hall. She peaked out of the corner of her eye and saw Petyr watch the large man walk away with his sly little smirk on his face. Ahhh, so that was it. He didn't believe her that there was nothing between her and the Hound. She turned to Petyr and whispered in his ear. "I know what you're doing, my love." As she pulled away she smiled at him as sweetly as she could.

She barked out a quick laugh as he wore his confused mask almost seamlesly but he had forgotten one thing. She knew his eyes and they did not look confused as the rest of his features did. "Petyr, stop. You aren't fooling me." She leaned forward to whisper in his ear again. "I told you there was nothing between him and me. You have nothing to fear." When she went to sit back in her chair he reached forward and held her close to his lips.

He whispered back into her ear "I do not fear what your affections are towards the man. I know you will not betray me." He said vehemently, startling her the tiniest bit. He continued, gripping her arm a bit tighter than before. "I do not trust him. He is a man without honor. If he found you alone in a corridor or out in the Godswood, are you certain that he would not act on his impulses? I am not."

Without moving her head to look at him she breathed his name in a plea "Petyr-"

"You are the most precious thing to me and I will not see you harmed. I promised you that I would not hurt the man, but I will not leave you a sitting duck, vulnerable to him and his whims."

"Petyr, if he had wanted to hurt me, he'd have done it years ago in my chambers." She tried to reason with him. "I told you he had been drunk when we were alone in my room. He didn't touch me. He only asked me to go with him and when I told him that I would stay in Kings Landing he walked out of my door without a backwards glance." He eased his grip on her and let her ease back in her chair a bit.

"Nevertheless, I will have one of my men be at your side whenever we are apart. Just to be safe." He told her.

"No!" She said sternly. "I will not be followed around like a child in my own home. If we leave Winterfell, then I'll allow it. But not here, and that is final." She said, ending the discussion by standing and looking down at him. "I am going for a walk. I suggest you do your duties as master of coin and give me space for a time." She nodded to him once and he bowed his head in agreement. She turned and walked out the door.

Luckily the hall was mostly empty at that point and no one of consequence noticed their little squabble. Especially not the Hound. Petyr decided that even though she had declined his insistence on having a guard present at all times, he would make sure one was watching her from afar at all times just the same. As her husband it was his duty to protect her, always.

He walked to one of the Knights still sitting at the table. "I want you to watch my wife. I do not trust the Hound around her. Do not let your presence be noticed. She requested to not be followed. Do you understand?" He asked. "Yes my Lord." He answered earnestly. "You can arrange a sort of shift out with two other men, but let me know of their names when you have figured it all out. I want her watched at all times. Even when she is with me. Are we clear?" He asked again. "Yes my Lord. I'll get on with it right away." And he bowed a small bow and walked out to find Lady Baelish.

...

Sansa walked towards the Godswood rather annoyed with her husband. He could be so dense at times. She marched through the snow and straight to the pond that was next to the Heart Tree. She needed to be alone and away from the eyes of the castle.

She plopped down unceremoniously on the ground, not caring if the snow melted through her dress. She fiddled with the ties of her cloak as she looked at the black water of the pond. After a few minutes she was lost in her thoughts and didn't hear the person closing in on her from behind.

He stood behind her, watching her. She was taller and her hair was longer. Her womanly form had really taken shape as well. He couldn't deny that she looked beautiful. More beautiful than he had anticipated her growing up to be. He had been so relieved to see her whole after knowing who she had been married to. What was this now? Her third marriage? The girl sure did go through men. He had heard that her marriage to the imp was never consummated and he could only imagine what being the bastard's wife had been like. He couldn't imagine her truly happy with the brothel owner but he assumed he'd at least be a better lover for the girl.

Seven hells! Why was he thinking about the Little Bird's sex life? This was not what he wanted to have on his mind. He couldn't help it though, after seeing that mark that little cunt had left on her neck. A dog was no fool. He knew that mark was left there for him to see. He could see the jealousy plainly in the little Lord's eyes last night as Sansa had defended him, twice. It made him happy to make him uncomfortable. Baelish was a little shit.

He didn't know why Sansa had married him. She deserved a handsome young lad without a tarnished reputation. Not that snake. But it was not his choice to make, and if it had been he'd have been too late to stop her anyhow. He knew they had definitely consummated their marriage. He had heard as much last night. He assumed that, too, was for him. He had never had more affection towards the girl than the type of fondness you'd find between an older brother towards his much younger sister. He had tried to protect her as best he could and it broke his heart that he couldn't do more. But he figured that the little Lord had assumed he had more developed feelings towards his pretty little wife.

He hadn't been quiet when he walked towards her but apparently she hadn't heard anyway. He cleared his throat to make his presence known. Startled she turned around on the ground to face him, fear painted all over her face. He laughed at the look she gave him and said "It's just an old dog come to visit. No need to be afraid Little Bird."

"What are you doing out here all alone, girl? Don't you know there are bad men out here who could hurt a pretty thing like yourself?" He teased, taking a seat next to her on the cold ground.

"I needed to get away from everyone and find some peace." She sighed, looking back towards the water.

"Would you like me to leave?" He asked her gently.

She looked up at him and placed a hand on his arm. "No, please stay. I would love to catch up with you. How have you been? How is Arya?" She asked.

"I have survived. As for your sister, I can't say. I haven't seen her since that she-beast knocked me off the side of a mountain. But she was in good health when she left me for dead." He said.

"She did not leave you for dead, did she?" Sansa asked, shocked.

"Aye, she did. I would have done the same. I'm not a good man, Little Bird." He told her.

"You are to me." She whispered. "Thank you, for watching out for her while you did. It means the world to me to know that she wasn't alone, for a while at least."

Her thanks made him uncomfortable. "So, you married the little weasel Baelish." He said, not really a question.

She laughed a half hearted laugh and said "Yes, I married Petyr. You don't approve?" She asked.

"Hell no I don't. You can do a hell of a lot better than him. Did he trap you? Force you to marry him?" He asked.

"No, he did not force me or trap me. I married him of my own free will. I wanted to. I love him." When she saw the disgusted look on his face she smiled and continued. "He may be unworthy of my hand in your eyes, but he was the one who protected me after you left." He looked away from her when she said that, remembering the night he had come to her room asking her if she wanted to go home. "He protected me and got me out of Kings Landing. He has hurt me along the way, I don't deny that. But I believe he is a different man now. A changed man. He's not the same as he was the last time you saw him." She told him.

"Oh he's not is he?" He asked sarcastically. "Is that why you have a guard watching you right now?"

"What?!" She said, looking around for the Knight. "Where is he?" She asked Sandor. He nodded his head towards his right and she saw the sun glare off the man's armor in the distance. "Why that little..." She trailed off.

"Weasel?" he offered. Sansa elbowed him in his side and told him to hush.

"I told him I didn't want a guard around me at Winterfell, but he doesn't trust you. He believes your affections towards me are of the romantic nature. I tried to assure him otherwise but he wouldn't listen, obviously." She said.

"You are a beautiful woman, Little Bird. I don't blame him for wanting to protect you." He told her. "I would do the same if you were my wife." She blushed at his words. She was truly beautiful. "I'll make it easy on you, girl." He said as he stood up and looked down at her. "I'll keep an eye on you, Little Bird. Just like back in Kings Landing. If ever you need me, just chirp away and I'll be by your side, no questions asked." He eyed her.

She nodded at him and said "Thank you Sandor. You don't know how much It means to me to hear you say that."

"Now don't go getting mushy on me girl." He teased in his own way and turned and walked back inside the walls.

Sansa sat there on the ground a while longer until she could feel her inner skirts getting wet. She stood, dusting herself off and headed back to the castle. She had a husband to talk to.

 **A/N: I know that in the books Sandor was more aggressive towards Sansa in her room, but as I said in the prelude, this is based off the show since I haven't read the books. Only snippets here and there. I promise that I won't have Sandor be a main character in all the chapters. I just really like him and wanted to play around inside his head a bit. Next chapter will be back to our regularly scheduled drama! And lucky y'all! 2 chapters in 1 day. Sorta. It's after 0100 here. Enjoy and please review!**


	18. Chapter 17

**A/N: Sorry for the delayed update. I know how I want the story to go but I've been trying to decide how detailed I want it to be. I don't think I want to do 50 chapters, ha ha! But I guess we'll see how long it takes to get the story out and to do it right. I'm trying to move it along at a bit of a quicker pace for the next couple of chapters though. The stuff I really want to get to needs to be set up first. Enjoy!**

Chapter 17

She walked into their chambers and found him at his desk. She smiled sweetly at him and went to sit in her chair and picked up some mending she had been working on. He eyed her suspiciously, she seemed a bit off. With a gentle smile on her lips she kept her eyes down on her work. She pulled the needle up through the fabric, pulled the thread tight, then pushed it right back down to the under side. She repeated the motions a few minutes before he finally broke the silence.

"Is everything ok my love?" He asked.

"Of course husband, everything is just perfect." She said smiling up at him. Oh, she had him! She could see the unease in his face.

"Are you sure? You seem a bit, different." He pressed on.

"Do I? I feel just fine." She said, not looking up from her work. She could feel his eyes on her so she stopped and looked up at him. "Guilty conscious?" She asked, taunting him.

So she had seen the Knight. Petyr was going to have a few words with him. He was supposed to stay inconspicuous. "Should I have one?" He asked, playing the game with her.

She didn't respond. She just looked back down at her lap and continued to sew. She wasn't going to make this easy on him. He supposed he deserve that. "I'm sorry my love. You weren't supposed to see him. I asked to stay far out of sight. I just love you so, and you are very beautiful. I worry about your safety." He confessed.

She made a few more stitches before she looked back up at him. "I didn't see him. Not at first anyway." She said.

"What do you mean? Then how did you know?" He asked confused.

"Sandor pointed him out to me." She said nonchalantly.

Petyr's heartbeat sped up. She was with him? They had just talked about it this morning and she was already spending time with him?

Before he could say anything she spoke again, sensing his anger. "I was in the Godswood and he happened by and we talked. Nothing more. He doesn't feel the way about me that you think he does. I'm more of a sister to him Petyr. Please, drop this." She said.

He looked at her and tried to calm down. He had been careless. He needed to make decisions after more thought and not out of jealousy. The Hound was a smart guy, he couldn't underestimate him. He'd have a talk with his Knights too. He smiled at his wife, making sure it reached his eyes. It was getting harder and harder to lie to her. She was beginning to know him better than he was comfortable with. He may have been ready to share everything with her but that didn't mean it was easy for him just yet.

"I'll call off my guards." He said, looking back down to his work.

She sighed. "It's ok Petyr. If you want them to watch, from afar, I'll allow it." She compromised.

His head snapped up in surprise. "Really?" Could it really be that easy?

"Sandor told me that you were just looking out for me, and that he'd do the same if I was his wife. You're just trying to protect me. Why should I deny you the right to protect your lovely wife?" She said standing from her chair and walking towards him.

He was none too pleased that she had listened to the dog's reasoning over his own, but now wasn't the time to fight that battle. He smiled at her as he watched her hips sway as she walked to him. He knew that having her as his wife would be very distracting and that it would be difficult to leave the bed in the beginning, but it'd been almost two months and his appetite for her was still insatiable. He grew hard just watching her walk. Gods, he wanted her so badly.

Just as she reached his chair there was a loud banging at their door. Petyr cursed under his breath and stood to answer it. "Don't lose that thought." He told her, leaning forward to bite her bottom lip. A small sigh escaped her lips as he walked past her to murder whoever was on the other side of the door.

"What do you want?" he demanded coldly.

"I'm sorry my Lord, it's the King, he requests yours and Lady Baelish's attendance in his work chambers immediately.

"Thank you." He said curtly and closed the door in the servants face.

"Don't be rude, my love." Sansa chastised him as she walked towards the door. "It's not his fault. And don't worry, I won't soon be forgetting where we left off." She teased. She leaned forward to kiss him and as she sucked on his bottom lip she reached down between his legs and took a firm hold of his cock. After an all too brief moment she released him and strode out the door, leaving him there with his mouth hanging open. She was getting good. Too damn good.

...

Once the usual five had all gathered in Jon's office he handed Sansa a scroll. She read it, surprised by its contents. She then handed it to Davos, who passed it to Petyr, and lastly Tormund.

"That was fast." Tormund said.

"That's an understatement." Davos responded.

"Well, what do we do now?" Sansa asked her cousin.

"Well, I suppose we should send her a raven congratulating her on winning the Throne." Jon said. That earned him a few chuckles from those in attendance.

"We should invite her here." Petyr said. Everyone looked over to him with surprise on their faces.

"Why?" Sansa asked.

"She could aid us in the war against the Night King. She has many men and three dragons. Those numbers couldn't hurt us in battle." He reasoned.

"Didn't you say that dragon glass killed the White Walkers?" Tormund asked.

"Aye, it does." Jon said.

"Well, couldn't we use the beasts to make more? Enough for all the men to use in the war." Tormund continued.

"If we can figure out how to make it, then yes, it would be extremely helpful in the war. I need to send word to Sam, ask him how it's done." Jon answered. "Davos, stay with me to help me write up the request. You are more eloquent with words than I am." He laughed.

"Yes, your Grace." Jon rolled his eyes at the formal address, the man was a lost cause. He was as bad as Sansa was. Maybe worse.

"Alright then, that is all for now. I just wanted you all informed." Jon said, dismissing them.

After everyone had left Jon waited until the door was firmly closed before he began to speak. "Davos, I didn't want them present for this part. In the scroll to the new Queen, I want to offer her something." He said.

"What's that, Jon?" Davos asked, curious.

"I want to ask for her help in the war against the undead, in return for her assistance, I will step down as King in the North." Jon told him.

"Your Grace, you can't be serious." Davos protested.

"I'm serious as I was dead. I don't want this Davos. Being King. It's not for me. I'm meant to be out in the field with the men, not ruling over them, cooped up in a room all day hunched over scrolls and papers." He said, as serious as Davos had ever heard him be.

"If that is what you want, I will write it in the request." He said in defeat.

"It is what I want. Come now, don't pout. You know I'm not a good King." Jon jested.

"You are the greatest King I have ever served. If anyone was ever deserving of ruling, it was you." Davos said with a conviction that startled Jon.

"Davos, I-" Jon began, not knowing how to continue. Davos saved him the uncomfortable conversation and said simply.

"If you aren't happy as King, don't let what I want stop you from giving up the throne. Above all else, you should be happy." Davos said sincerely.

Jon considered Davos's words, but he knew his descision was for the best of the Realm. His aunt was a force to be reckoned with and he had no desire to go up against her. He'd be happy living out his days in his home, Winterfell. He didn't need a chair in the south to make him happy.

...

Four days later Jon held her response in his hands. He had called the people he considered his small council in the war chamber to read it together.

"Before we begin, there is something you all should know." Jon said. They all looked at him with serious expressions. He continued "I told Daenerys that in return for her help in the war I would step down as King in the North and recognize her as the one true Queen of the Seven Kingdoms." He waited as they all protested. All except for Petyr. He was impressed that the man could keep his face so calm, betraying no emotions. He was good, he had to give him that. Petyr turned to his sister, his cousin rather, and calmed her down by placing one hand on her leg and gave her a small smile. She looked him in the eyes and immediately stopped talking. She looked at her husband, and then up at Jon. He didn't like the power the man held over her. Her husband or not, he needed to keep an eye out on Littlefinger. "My decision has already been made and the Raven sent. Let us all see her response before we argue any further."

Jon looked down and broke the seal. He held up the letter and read it silently first. "She agreed to my terms." He said relieved. "She says that most of her army was largely unused during the battle against Cersei and are fit for travel North immediately. They will already be on their way by the time we receive this and will be here within the month." Jon finished. The room was silent. He looked at each of their faces, waiting for one of them to break the silence.

Tormund looked around and spoke up. "Well, what are we waiting for? We've got a war to prepare for!" He stood up and looked at Jon expectantly.

"We need to tell the rest of the Lords and the men. We cannot tell them of my promise to Daenerys. That will only cause chaos and we cannot have that right now. Once the war is won, I will let everyone know. Are we in agreement?" He asked, looking at each of their faces. They all nodded and spoke in agreement.

...

Later that evening in the great hall Jon stood before all the Lords of the North and told them he had asked for the Dragon Queen's assistance in the war against the Night King. He told them about her army, about her three dragons, and told them that they would have to welcome her and her men with open arms. No hostility would be tolerated. To his surprise, everyone had his back. They all agreed that it was the right decision to ask her assistance in the coming months.

Once everyone had dispersed to tell their men of what was to come, Sansa pulled Jon to the side and whispered to him "Jon, I need to talk with you." He looked into her serious eyes and nodded. He followed her back to her chambers.

Jon noticed that Petyr was not present. Sansa watched as he looked around the room and answered his unspoken question. "He is speaking with the commander of the Knights of the Vale. They will begin serious preparations for battle in the morning and Petyr wanted to know exactly what they had planned." She told him.

He studied her for a moment, debating whether or not to bring it up. He decided to ask her "Is everything ok between you two?"

"Yes, everything is perfect." He cocked his eyebrow at her, knowing nothing is ever perfect and she amended "Well, almost everything. He had experienced a bit of jealousy when Sandor arrived. But it has all been straightened out."

"What did he have to be jealous about?" He asked.

"Petyr thought that Sandor had feelings for me that were more familiar than was approtriate. He didn't understand the bond that Sandor and I have at first. He misinterpreted his affections towards me. It has all been cleared up now, though. No need to worry." She assured him. Jon just nodded.

"What did you want to speak with me about?" He asked.

"Jon, we barely have the resources to house and feed the men we have now. How are we to care for another 10,000 or more men?" She asked.

"In her response, my aunt stated that she would make sure that her armies packed heavy for the long months ahead. I have also sent Ravens to all the houses in the North and the South requesting their aid in helping supply the armies that would be fighting for their life. Don't worry dear sister, everything will work out. I've seen to it all." He told her, reaching out to hold her shoulders as he spoke.

"Sister." She said sadly.

Jon removed one had from her shoulder and tipped her chin up to look into her eyes. "No matter who are parents are, you will always be my sister. My annoying and bratty little sister. But sister nonetheless." He said trying to comfort her. She closed the distance between them and hugged him tightly. After a few moments he noticed she was crying. "What's wrong, love?" He asked her.

"I am so worried I'll lose you." She sobbed into his shoulder. He sighed and stroked her hair. He couldn't promise her that he would survive the next few months. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't bring himself to possibly lie to her.

He settled for the second best response. "I promise you that I will try my hardest to make it back to you and Bran. You two are all I have left in the world. I will protect you until my dying day. Please, don't cry. I can't bear to see you so upset."

She sniffled and wiped her eyes as she pulled out of is embrace. She looked into his eyes. "I don't think I've ever told you before but I want you to know that I love you. Even as kids when I despised you I loved you. You have always been as much my brother as Bran and Robb and Rickon are."

Her words warmed him to the depths of his soul. He found his words stuck in his throat. He swallowed hard and told her, "I love you too Sansa. I always have and I always will. Even when you were unkind to me, I loved you. Plus, father would kill me if I felt otherwise." He said laughing a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood. It worked and she laughed too.

As they were still laughing, Petyr walked into the room. He looked between the two of them and walked to his wife's side. He smiled politely at Jon and said "Your Grace." And bowed his head.

"I'll leave you two be. Sleep well. I will see you in the morning." And Jon took his leave.

"What was that about?" Petyr asked Sansa as he walked to his wardrobe to begin undressing for the night.

"I just had a few concerns about how we would house and feed our numerous guests once they arrive. He assured me that all was taken care of." She smiled at him as she helped him out of his clothes. "Did everything go ok with the Knights?" She asked him.

He turned to her and wrapped his arms around her and smiled "Everything is going according to plan." He said and leaned forward to kiss her. She stopped him, her hand on his chest.

"Plan? Are you planning something?" She asked him skeptically.

"No my love, I only meant that that they are all healed and healthy and ready to begin training properly again at first light." He said and kissed her before she could look into his eyes too deeply. If the last few months had taught Petyr anything, it was that certain behaviors were not so easily forgotten as he had once thought.

The vision he had had of his wife glowing in front of him, pregnant with his child, still filled his dreams. But behind her, the Iron Throne refused to fade completely into nothing. It stood there in the background, going in and out of focus each day as things changed as quickly as the winds blew. Petyr had never felt more alive than he did right now. He was headed to the top and nothing could stop him now. He found that rather than detract from his original goal, his wife brought new and exciting aspects to the Game. More than he could have ever hoped for.

Petyr turned her quickly and began undoing her gown, determined to help fulfil one aspect of his dream. If she wasn't with child soon, it wouldn't be for lack of trying.

 **A/N2: I don't know if Tormund can read or not, for the sake of this story he can. Y'all didn't really think that Petyr would give up his scheming so easily, did you? Be patient my loves, good things come to those who wait. ;) Also, I know that I focused on Jon and his story more than Petyr and Sansa, but to round out the story better we need to be inside other's heads from time to time. And lastly, I know this was kind of a fluffy chapter but, again, I need to lay the foundation sometimes for greater chapters yet to come!**


	19. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

The next month goes by quickly, each day being mostly the same. The men sparred to stay in shape and prepare for the war. The women mended clothes, made new ones, and did whatever was needed around Winterfell. The days grew shorter and colder. Snow fell every day now. One could feel the atmosphere changing around them. Everyone was on edge, the tension in the air was palpable.

They heard them before they saw them. Jon, Sansa, Petyr, Tormund, and Davos stood on the battlements looking through the ramparts to the South and saw black line of men and horses descend on the horizon. Sansa yelped and grabbed onto Petyr's arm when she heard the screech of the dragons as they flew towards Winterfell.

"My Gods!" Sansa exclaimed.

"I never thought I'd see the day." Davos said.

Tormund just laughed, and Jon watched them come to him with awe in his eyes. As the great flying beasts got closer, they all walked down to meet them just outside the walls of Winterfell.

They stood in a line with 30 men in full armor at their backs. Petyr looked behind him at the odd collection of soldiers gathered behind him. Wildlings stood beside Northmen who stood beside Knights of the Vale. Though he would never ask them to leave, he knew the men were defenseless against fire breathing dragons.

The dragons landed a ways away and for a moment nothing happened. They could see a silver haired woman on the back of the biggest one. She appeared to be talking to the dragons. After a while, 5 riders came to a stop next to the big black dragon. The fantastic creature lowered itself closer to the ground and the Mother of Dragons slid off of him. She climbed up in the saddle of one of the riders and they rode towards them.

They came to a stop just in front of Jon, who had stepped forward. Daenerys dismounted and walked up to him.

"I am Daenerys Stormborn, you must be Jon Snow." She said as she stopped in front of Jon.

"Yes, your Grace. That I am. You have some fine dragons there. Never thought I'd ever see one in person."

The beautiful Queen looked back at them and laughed. "They are quite something, aren't they?" She looked back to Jon and a man with strawberry blonde hair dismounted.

He walked right up to Jon and held out his hand and said "I am Jorah Mormont, son of Jeor Mormont, and cousin to Lady Lyanna Mormont."

"I trained under your father." Jon said, shanking the man's hand. "He was a good man." Jon said. He may not have agreed with everything the man did or let be done, but he still thought he was a good man.

Jorah nodded in agreement. Lyanna walked up to him and stuck her small hand out to him and said "Cousin." Jorah just laughed and brought her in for a strong hug. The young Lady looked a bit uncomfortable at the gesture but returned the embrace.

"Come inside, we have much to discuss." Jon said to Daenerys.

Jon, Petyr, Sansa, Jorah, Davos, and Daenerys walked into the room Jon used for battle discussions and closed the door. Jon had asked all others to stay outside for a moment.

"Please, take a seat. I have something we need to discuss." Jon said. Just as he had taken a seat the door opened and Meera walked in with a soldier close behind her carrying Bran. The man sat Sansa's brother down in a chair and walked back out of the room, closing the door behind him. Daenerys looked at Jorah curiously and then back at Jon.

"Now that everyone is here, there is something I need to tell you." Jon looked between the two strangers before him, not knowing how to begin.

Bran spoke up instead. "I am a Greenseer." Everyone looked to the young Stark. "Do you know what that is?" He asked the Dragon Queen.

"Yes." She said in a serious manner.

"I saw something in a vision that you need to know about." He told the Queen. She nodded her head for him to continue. "In one of my visions I was brought to the Tower of Joy during Robert's Rebellion. I saw my father there. He was told his sister, Lyanna Stark, was inside the Tower." He paused, letting it sink in. The silver haired Queen did not let her face betray her thoughts. Bran continued "I saw her, my aunt Lyanna, on a bed. Dying. There was blooded everywhere. She had just given birth and asked her brother to protect her son. The son she had with her husband, Rhaegar Targaryen." At this the Queen did speak.

"My brother had a son with Lyanna?" She asked, confused.

"Yes, your Grace. They had a son and my father raised him as his own bastard." Everyone looked to Jon. "Jon is not a Snow. He is a Targaryen. He is your nephew." Bran finished.

Daenerys stared at Jon for a long moment before she spoke. "How long have you known this?" She asks.

"Not long, two months perhaps." Jon replied.

"Why should I believe you? What are you wanting to gain from this?" She asked in an accusing tone.

"I want nothing, your Grace. I intend to keep my word to step down as King in the North for your aid in the war to come. I do not wish this information to change anything. You needed to know, though." He said. "Also, no one outside of this room knows of my true parentage. The Northerners are not fond of the Targaryen name and I do not wish to lose support before the fight has even begun. This must stay between us." He said.

Daenerys thought to herself for a moment, looked to Jorah who seemed to communicate to her with his eyes, and she responded. "I will not tell a soul what you have told me. I will aid you in the war and accept your resignation as King after we have won. After all, we are family. Nephew." She said, smiling at the last word. Jon smiled in return and looked very relieved.

"Thank you. Anything you need is yours. Anything you want, just ask." They stood and let the others in to discuss logistics on where everyone would be staying, how they would be cared for, and what to expect with the White Walkers.

...

Much later into the night everyone departed the room for their own chambers. Petyr looked to Sansa in the hall and told her "I need to pay a visit to our little bird, can you make it to our chamber alone my love?" He asked her. She smiled at him and kissed his cheek. "I'll be waiting for you." She said with a wink and walked down the hall.

Petyr soon found himself in a busy kitchen and managed to quickly grab the girls attention. He motioned for her to follow him and he lead her out into the darkened hallway. She looked excited and confused. Petyr had hardly talked to her in the past 2 months. But she hadn't forgotten him. She still remembered the way his fingers felt as the brushed hers. She remembered the smile he would give her when she had pleased him. She wondered what he needed her for and praised the Gods he had finally come to her again. But she wasn't going to be so easy this time. If he wanted her help, he was going to have to work for it. She didn't want to just be some stupid girl in his eyes. She wanted him to be surprised by her. To think of her at all times. While he walked the halls, while he ate his midday meal, while he made love to his wife. The distance had helped her gain more confidence.

He lead her to a dark doorway at the end of the hallway and he looked both ways before he opened the door to the room and let her go in before him. He closed the door behind him and she almost slipped up. Almost smiled with excitement and lost the upper hand.

"My Lord, how may I help you." She asked, her face a mask covering all emotions she had.

Petyr could tell she was trying to be tough, trying to control the situation. Her eyes gave her away, however. He sighed internally, he'd have to let her think she had him in her palms if he expected her to do as he wanted. It was his fault. He had neglected the bond they had developed as of late. He had been careless. He figured he'd see what she had in mind before he made any decisions. "I am sure you are now aware of our new guests?" He asked, leaning towards her slightly. He was impressed, she only faltered for a brief moment before her serious face was back.

"Yes, I am aware." She said as she stepped back a step. He smiled at her and she almost melted. Why did he have to be so handsome?

Petyr reached out between them and grabbed one of hands in his as he stepped up close to her. "You still agree to our arrangement, don't you little bird?' He asked her, circling his thumb over the top of her hand.

She angled her head up to his and stared straight into his eyes. She had gotten bold over the past months, Petyr noted. "Aye, we do. But it'll cost something now." She said. She couldn't believe she had gotten the words out. His scent was intoxicating her and it was hard for her to keep her focus.

He leaned in closer to her, his minty breath washed over her face as he asked "And what will it be costing me?" He raised an eyebrow to her and smirked.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she leaned up and kissed him on the lips. She hadn't even had the chance to enjoy the feel of his lips on hers when he had pulled away and turned her around swiftly and pressed her front up against the stone wall. He pressed his body against her back and she was gone. The feel of him against her body was more than she could handle. He had her again. Completely.

"You're young and not quite familiar with the ways of the world. I will cut you some slack, but just this once. Do you understand me?" He asked in a harsh whisper against her ear. She nodded quickly. "Good girl. You will never cross that line again. You will not kiss, touch, or talk about me. I prefer to have a pleasant relationship with my little birds but I am not above threatening, and following through with those threats, to get what I want. We tried it my way first. You were unhappy with that arrangement. This will be how it is now. You will listen to everything you hear and once a week I will check in with you and you can tell me everything you've discovered. If you hear something that I need to be made aware of before our next meeting, you will come to my chambers under the guise of bringing something sweet to my wife. This is how it will be. You will do as you're told or face the consequences. Any questions?" He finished.

"No my Lord." She said quickly. He could hear the fear in her voice. Oh little girl, it could have been so easy, but you had to go and make things difficult. It didn't really matter though. Either way he would get what he wanted out of her or someone else.

He released her and walked out of the room, not turning back to see the state he had left her in. She kicked herself. Why did she have to go and ruin everything? She had played her hand much too soon and now he was mad at her. It would never be as it was before again. With a crushed heart she walked back to the kitchen to finish her nightly duties. As dejected as she felt, she couldn't help the small smile that formed on her lips. She lightly brushed her fingertips along her smile, remembering the brief moment they had touched his.

...

Petyr almost slammed the door shut in his frustration. He stormed into the room and began to undress.

"What's the matter?" Sansa asked, putting down her sewing and quickly walking into their main room to him.

"Nothing my love." He said giving his wife a painted on smile.

"Petyr, do you forget I know you? Tell me, love, what is the matter?" She said as she moved his hands away and began to undress him. He was going to rip the fabric with how rough he was being.

"The kitchen wench might not work out for much longer." He said as he watched Sansa undress him. She didn't say anything, waiting for him to continue. "She kissed me." He said. At that she looked up into his eyes, only pausing for a moment before she looked back down at her fingers as they undid buttons and ties. Petyr continued. "I had to threaten her. I prefer to have a pleasant relationship with my spies. It's much easier when they think you like them. They get careless when they are fidgety and nervous. I told her that under no circumstances was she allowed to touch me again. We still have an agreement but it won't be like it had been. Things are changing quickly and we needed her." He said.

Finally, Sansa replied "My love, why were you so harsh? She is just a young girl and doesn't know any better."

"What would you have me do? Kiss her in return?" He asked, confused by her reaction. He had expected her to rage in a jealous fit. But when had Sansa ever responded like most women? That is why he loved her so. She was unexpected and unlike anyone he had ever known. Even her own mother would have acted out in jealousy. Sansa was truly a remarkable woman.

"Maybe not return the kiss, but perhaps you could have been gentler in your rejection. To preserve the relationship." She offered.

"You surprise me every day, Sansa. You never say or do what I expect. I'm ashamed to admit I usually underestimate you."

She helped him out of his clothes and turned her back to him, brushing her hair over her shoulder. "You better find a way to make it up to me then." She said as she looked back at him over her shoulder, her eyes smoldering.

He undid her dress and took every stitch off of her. He grabbed her hand, kissed it, and lead her to their bed. She laid down in the middle and he laid down beside her, propped up on his side. He let his left hand travel over her body. He hadn't kissed her yet, and he wouldn't be for a while still. At least not on her lips. As he gently stroked her body he watched her eyes close. He moved over her and started kissing her neck. He kissed her there like he would if it had been her mouth. He traveled down to her collar bone and swirled his tongue in the dips and curves of her body as his tongue slowly found her nipple. Her hands moved to his hair as he tortured each of her breasts with his tongue and lips and teeth. Sucking and flicking his tongue over her, causing her to whimper.

He let his mouth travel further still until he could burry his nose in her hair that covered her sex. He inhaled deeply, desire mounting as her scent filled him. He used both hands to gently part her legs and she obliged him. He ran his fingers gently down her folds and her breath hitched as he let his tongue slide languidly up her slick lips. She tasted of the sweetest nectar. Opening her to him with his fingers he let his tongue assault her most delicate area. He swirled it up and around and back down so he could taste her from the inside.

He worked his mouth over her at a torturous pace, not wanting her to reach her climax too quickly. Her nails dug into his scalp as he slowly brought her to the edge. While his lips sucked on her, focusing on one spot, he inserted two upward facing fingers inside her and massaged her on the inside. Almost instantly she screamed out and bucked wildly under his mouth. She broke like a weak dam under his touch and exploded all around him. He stopped his motions as she incoherently mumbled to herself. He settled between her legs and sank into her easily. She arched her back to him and moaned softly.

He cradled her head in his hands and slowly made love to her until she opened her eyes. She looked up into his soul and he saw tears that were moments from falling. Without stopping he asked her "What is wrong my love? Why do you cry?"

She touched his face gently and blinked. Two tears fell from her eyes and she reached up to kiss him. He rocked deeper into her as she let his tongue into her mouth, tangling with hers.

When he broke the kiss she whispered to him. "I love you so much it scares me." He kissed her again and moved inside her at a faster pace. Her confession driving him towards the finish. She trembled in his arms and he filled her with his desire as her walls shuddered around him.

He rested his forehead on hers after they had settled back on earth. "I love you Sansa. I love you more than you can imagine. More than I thought possible. You are mine, and I am yours. Completely." He kissed her tenderly and rolled to his side. Holding her to his chest, they fell asleep.

Outside their door, in the shadows, he listened. He stood there and listened as she gave herself to him. He had been walking to his chamber and heard her soft moans. He had only stopped when he realized the sounds had affected him. He didn't know what to think. What to do. He had never thought of her this way. As the sounds behind the door ceased he continued on his way, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do now.


End file.
